On the Wings of an Angel
by unicorn-skydancer08
Summary: Terence and Pinocchio encounter a mysterious woman who hails from Terence's past. Pinocchio is unsure of this woman, and at the same time the boy must face the demon of his own past. Sequel to "The Guardian."
1. Chapter 1: Nightmares of the Past

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Welcome back, my friends! I promised a sequel to my famous "Guardian" story, and here it is! This chapter's a bit of a quickie, but it should keep you satisfied while I get the rest of the story figured out. I expect reviews for this when you're through. The other story may very well have remained unwritten without them, you know. And if you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate it if your reviews were a bit more…constructive. Don't just say things like "wow" and "awesome" and "this is so cool"; I would like to know just what you think is so cool about the story, why it is so awesome. Be a bit more specific, will you? It helps build me up, helps me to see what I do well on and where improvement could be used. Thanks! _

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved.**_

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**Chapter 1: Nightmares of the Past**

"_No!_" Pinocchio screamed, breaking out of the terrible nightmare he had been wallowing in with an unpleasant start that jolted his whole body.

Then, looking around, struggling for breath while cold perspiration trickled down his face, the boy realized he was in his own room, safe and unharmed. He was lying on the floor next to his bed, with his legs entangled in the sheets and blanket. One of his pillows was with him, as was his new teddy bear that he almost always snuggled with when he went to sleep. Bright rays of early morning sunlight flooded through his open window. The soft, soothing chirruping of birds sounded in his ears. Realizing it was only a dream, Pinocchio let out a deep sigh of relief, though his heart continued to thud painfully against his ribcage and his stomach was still twisted in knots.

"Pinocchio?" a familiar voice called out just then.

In less than two seconds, Terence appeared in the door, looking frantic with worry. "Pinocchio, what happened?" he gasped, his sea-blue eyes wide with alarm, his handsome, youthful face the color of oatmeal. "Are you all right? Is everything all right?" When he discovered Pinocchio lying on the floor, he made a swift beeline to him. "What happened?" the white-haired man repeated, softly and more gently this time, as he knelt beside him. "How did you fall out of bed?"

Pinocchio didn't answer right away, but crawled closer to Terence, dragging his teddy with him. Terence promptly shifted his position, so that he now sat on the floor with his long legs spread out flat. Pinocchio climbed into the young man's lap and Terence folded the child into his arms, blanket and bear and all. Pinocchio curled up like a cat and nestled his head against Terence's chest, taking comfort in his guardian's warmth and solidity.

He always felt safe and secure whenever Terence was near.

"What happened, Pinocchio?" Terence asked a third time. "I was in the other room, and I heard you screaming about something."

He paused before adding in a low voice, "You had that dream again, didn't you?"

Pinocchio nodded.

"It's always the same, Terence," the boy said, finally speaking aloud. "I dream that I'm still in the circus, that Fabrizio is coming after me. I'm standing on the high wire, with Fabrizio in front of me and laughing. Then the wire breaks—"

He stopped, unable to finish, but Terence understood what the boy meant to say.

"Oh, my poor boy," Terence said softly, his countenance sorrowful, his deep blue eyes emanating heartfelt pity.

Not so long ago, both he and Pinocchio had been at a real circus. There really had been a Fabrizio—Master Fabrizio, to be precise. He was the cruel, ruthless ringmaster of the Fabrizio Expo, who cared for no one and for nothing but tobacco, alcohol, and all the money he could lay his filthy hands on. Even though Fabrizio was long gone, the memory of him still haunted Terence, and especially Pinocchio, to this very day. Even though Pinocchio was now safe with Terence, the child still suffered periodic nightmares and hallucinations of the time Fabrizio kidnapped him and kept him against his will in the circus, of the fateful night he and Fabrizio were involved in a grave accident that resulted in Fabrizio's death.

Were it not for the saving grace of the Blue Fairy, Pinocchio would not be here today, either—nor would he be in the form of a real boy of flesh and blood, in place of a pinewood marionette.

"I'm so sorry, Pinocchio," Terence went on as he brushed the boy's hair back from his forehead. "It all seems so real, doesn't it?"

Pinocchio nodded again. "Do you have dreams like that too, Terence?" he couldn't help asking.

"More times than I care to number," Terence answered grimly, recalling how he himself often awoke in the middle of the night to find his sheets and pillows soaking wet, as though someone had poured a bucket of water all over him.

It still knifed the young man's heart to think about how he had lost Pinocchio, however temporarily. He would never forget the sorrow and the pure agony that beset him that night after the fatal mishap at Fabrizio's circus.

The grief killed him, almost literally.

"Well, Pinocchio," Terence said at length, "all I can say is thank heaven it's all nothing but a bad dream, and we are here now, safe and well."

Pinocchio smiled, thinking of the time that had gone by since Terence first took him under his wing. These last few months were among the best of the boy's life, in spite of the nightmares.

His real father, Geppetto, had sadly passed away due to a grave illness. Pinocchio didn't know where he would be today had Terence not come across him, nor did he want to think about it. Terence was like a second father to him. Actually, since the man was so young (despite the shining whiteness of his hair, he looked to be somewhere between eighteen and twenty-one), he was sometimes more like an older brother looking after his small sibling.

Father, brother…at any rate, it didn't matter. What did matter was that Terence was always watching out for Pinocchio, was always there to help whenever his help was needed.

He always treated Pinocchio with love and respect, and every now and again, for just the tiniest space of time, Pinocchio could swear he saw Geppetto standing in his place. Thanks to Terence, Pinocchio now had a home, a family, a warm bed to sleep in, and plenty of good food to fill his belly. Even this small, fluffy brown teddy the child now cuddled was given to him from Terence, as a very special gift. In Terence's honor, Pinocchio had named his bear Terry.

Terence smiled at Pinocchio in return and kissed him tenderly on the forehead.

"You didn't hurt yourself when you fell out of bed, did you?" he asked, his smile fading.

"No," said Pinocchio truthfully. "Just woke up feeling very scared."

"Well, come on," said Terence, helping to untangle Pinocchio's legs from the web of sheets and lifting the boy up with him as he rose to his feet.

He carefully set Pinocchio back down on his own feet before continuing, "Why don't you come into the kitchen with me for a bit of breakfast? There's bread in the oven and porridge on the stove right now. That'll cheer you up."

"With sugar and honey?" Pinocchio asked, his eyes brightening at the prospect.

"All the sugar and honey you want, little mate. And there's milk and fresh fruit, too."

"Yum!" It had only occurred to Pinocchio just now how genuinely hungry he was. His belly gave out a noticeable growl, and Terence laughed.

"Come on," the white-haired youth smiled again, "let's get a move on and get some food into you before your stomach has a fit."


	2. Chapter 2: One Family

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

___Holy mackerel, I can't believe how long it's been since I updated this thing! It's been, like, forever! Well, never you fear; like I always say, I may be slow, but I've never given up on a story yet! _

___Boy, I can't tell you how much I missed writing about Terence and Pinocchio, and I can't tell you how wonderful it feels to get back into this._

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**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

******Lyrics ****© The Sherman Brothers**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved.**_

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**Chapter 2: One Family**

Pinocchio loved his new home.

Terence, who had somehow managed to get his hands on a small fortune, had purchased an elegant little house for them near the country, where there was plenty of sunshine and fresh air, flowers and green grass, and everything.

Their house was not what some would call a palace, but it was definitely a great deal nicer than the humble cottage Pinocchio used to share with Geppetto. There was a fruit orchard in the backyard, along with a vegetable patch and a small pump for drawing water. The house itself was very cozy and as neat as a pin. Aside from Terence and Pinocchio, the house was also the abode to a small, anthropomorphic cricket named Jiminy, who was Pinocchio's conscience and very good friend. When Terence and Pinocchio came into the kitchen for breakfast, Jiminy was already perched on the dining table, next to the bowl of fruit that usually sat there.

Figaro, the cat, was there, too. On the other side of the room, Cleo, the goldfish, was swimming about contentedly in her bowl.

Both Figaro and Cleo had once belonged to Pinocchio when he was living with his father. Then, when Geppetto died, Pinocchio was separated from his pets, and it was through sheer luck that they were together again today. Terence and Pinocchio had discovered Figaro in the streets the same night that Pinocchio became a real boy. Not long afterward, they stumbled across Cleo in a fish market. Cleo was dangerously close to becoming fish food when they found her, but Pinocchio had begged and pleaded with Terence, so for Pinocchio's sake, Terence bought the little fish on the spot. The man who was selling her was surprised that Terence wanted the fish still alive, uncooked and unharmed in any way, but he couldn't very well refuse the amount of money Terence offered for her, either. Whatever had become of Figaro, neither Terence nor Pinocchio knew—but they could guess from how weak and ragged the little kitten was that night, with his fur dirty and unkempt, and his ribs showing plainly. Now Figaro was fat and well fed again, and his fur was a beautiful, glossy black. He seemed a great deal happier too, as did Cleo.

Figaro rubbed himself against Terence and Pinocchio's ankles, as he always did whenever they came into a room. Then he made a beeline for the table and proceeded to sharpen his little claws on one of the wooden legs.

"Please don't do that, Figaro," said Terence. "You'll bring that table crashing down one of these days."

Figaro, of course, paid no attention and went about his business. The little rascal was very pleased at the amount of damage he'd managed to inflict upon the table within the last few months.

While Pinocchio scrambled onto his chair, and while Terence strode to the stove to inspect the porridge and see whether the bread was done yet, a big collie dog came trotting in.

This was Duke, another member of the household, and the newest one at that.

No one knew where he'd come from; Terence had simply found him one day at their front door. Duke, who was a lonely, starving stray, had whined, whimpered, and begged until Terence gave him a bit of food and water and took a few minutes to scratch his ears. Terence felt sorry for the poor whelp, who was as miserable and as wretched as Figaro had been, if not more so. Therefore, he took the collie in and made him part of the family.

Pinocchio took a great liking to Duke right away, although Figaro was, to say the least, not amused with the idea of having a dog in the house. But now the cat and the collie got along quite well, although sometimes it seemed Duke went out of his way to provoke Figaro—such as stealing the kitten's food, barking at him when his back was turned, and chasing him about when Figaro would much rather take a catnap.

Figaro hissed at Duke when he saw him, and he swatted the dog's nose with his forepaw when Duke brought his head to the cat's level, but Duke understood that was only Figaro's way of saying, _"Good morning."_

He growled playfully in return and used his own paw to gently knock Figaro onto his side and mess around with him a bit.

"All right, cool it, you two," Terence said when he saw this. To help the animals settle down, after he'd taken out the bread and stirred the porridge around, the young man filled two bowls with warm, sweet milk and set them on the floor. That got Figaro and Duke's attention right away. In no time they were both lapping happily away, one from each bowl. Terence also set down a plateful of meat for each of them before returning his attention to the porridge.

Noticing how Pinocchio was eyeing the bowl of fruit longingly at the table, he smiled and said, "Help yourself, Pinocchio."

So Pinocchio picked out a few handfuls of berries and also helped himself to a fresh apricot. "Good morning, Jiminy," he greeted the cricket when he saw him.

"Morning, Pinoke," Jiminy replied. His expression grew concerned. "If you don't mind my saying, what was all the ruckus just a moment ago?"

Before Pinocchio could say anything, Terence answered for him. "It's nothing, Jiminy. Pinocchio woke up from a frightening dream, but he's all right, now."

The young man then shifted his attention to Cleo, who swam up to him as he approached the bowl. "Hello, Cleo," he said warmly, sticking his fingers into the water and stroking her scales, the way Pinocchio often did. "And how fares our little mermaid this morning?" Being a fish, Cleo could only burble in reply, but Terence seemed to understand her. "Well, that's good to hear!"

It seemed to Pinocchio that Terence had an unusual way with animals. For that matter, the white-haired youth seemed in tune with everything in nature. Perhaps that was why he'd opted to settle down here in the countryside. Jiminy had to admit Terence was very different from any man he'd ever met. There was something peculiar about him—and not just in his physical appearance.

After giving Cleo her breakfast, Terence ladled the steaming porridge into two large bowls. Then he added a few drops in a tiny, nutshell-sized bowl for Jiminy. He set the little bowl in front of Jiminy, one of the big bowls in front of Pinocchio, and sat down at the other end of the table with the last bowl. Pinocchio made sure to add no less than five spoonfuls of sugar and three large dollops of fresh honey before picking up his spoon and hungrily digging in. Jiminy practically dove into his own bowl. Terence, being a gentleman, ate much more slowly and neatly, one small spoonful at a time.

For a few minutes, no one said a word, all thoughts centered on eating.

Presently, Terence pushed his bowl aside for the time being and said, "Shall we practice your reading this morning, Pinocchio?"

"Hmm?" Pinocchio looked up from his bowl. One hand still clutched his spoon, the other held a half-eaten wedge of bread. The boy's cheeks bulged out like a chipmunk's, and a bit of porridge dribbled down his chin. Terence couldn't repress a smile at the endearing sight. Of course, the boy made sure to swallow before he answered. "Oh, Terence, I don't know—do we have to do it now?"

"Come on," Terence beckoned, "it'll be good for you."

Pinocchio hung his head. "You know I'm no good at this reading stuff, Terence."

Having never attended school before, or received any formal education, the boy had never learned to properly read or write. Terence, who, in contrast, was a very skilled reader and maintained beautiful penmanship, had therefore decided to tutor the boy himself. When the opportunity arose, he purchased several books for them to study together, along with several quills and sheaves of parchment for writing.

It was a painfully slow and often extremely frustrating process for Pinocchio, but Terence was always very patient with him.

"Sure, you are," Terence insisted. "All you need is practice. And don't worry, we'll go nice and slow."

Pinocchio sighed as he set down his spoon, but he gave in. "Oh, all right."

So Terence went to retrieve one of the books. When he came back, Pinocchio obligingly pushed his porridge away to make room, as well as make sure the book didn't get messy. Terence dragged his chair around the table to Pinocchio's side before sitting down again and passing the book to the boy. It was a collection of _The Canterbury Tales_ by Geoffrey Chaucer, a medieval author that Terence was rather fond of.

They began with _The Miller's Tale_. With just a little prompting from Terence, Pinocchio began: "Now when the…the…knight…had thus his story told…in all the r-root…I mean, _rout_…there was nor y-young nor old."

Terence nodded. "Good, keep going."

"But said it was a n-no…" Pinocchio faltered, unable to form the word. "No…nob-lay…"

"Noble, Pinocchio," Terence gently corrected.

"Yes, noble, thanks. But said it was a noble story, well…worthy to be kept in mind to tell. And s-sp…speck…speck, uhh…er…" Once again, Pinocchio hit a snag, so Terence took over.

"And specially the gentle folk, each one," recited the young man, "our host, he laughed and swore, 'So may I run.'" He slid one arm around Pinocchio's small shoulders as he continued, "But this goes well, unbuckled is the mail—"

Here, he stopped, allowing Pinocchio to take it from here.

"—let's see now who can tell another tale," Pinocchio concluded.

Terence nodded again and smiled. "That's it, Pinocchio, very good. You're doing very well."

They read for the next half-hour or so, pausing every now and again to eat their breakfast. Pinocchio didn't think he was making much progress, if any, but Terence's words of praise and his tender touch made the boy feel a world of good. It sure helped to have a tutor like Terence. When Terence finally decided they'd done enough for now, Pinocchio was relieved, and even a little disappointed at the same time.

Terence now started gathering the breakfast dishes together, and Pinocchio lent him a hand.

They had a good time washing the dishes—though they had a bit of a scare when Jiminy leaped onto the counter to watch them, and the cricket accidentally slipped and took a tumble into the sudsy water. It took Terence a while to find him and fish him out, but when he did, Jiminy was miraculously alive, though thoroughly soaked and hiccupping up bubbles. "Oh, Jiminy, are you all right?" Terence asked as he placed him on a dry towel on the counter.

"Sure," Jiminy answered when he'd recovered his voice. With a hint of humor, he added on, "I was going to take a bath later anyway, and now I have been spared the trouble."

Terence shook his head. That was the disadvantage of having a cricket in the house—Jiminy was at constant risk for getting squished, stepped on, flattened, and overall pummeled about.

But no matter the hazard, somehow Jiminy always came through with a joke.

As Terence and Pinocchio resumed their chore, Pinocchio lifted the mood by playfully flicking a bit of water into Terence's face, and the young man didn't hesitate to flick water back at him. This made them both laugh.

When at last they were finished and had dried themselves off, Terence helped Pinocchio to get dressed. Just as Pinocchio was putting on his Tyrolean cap, they could hear Duke barking and whining. When they came out to the collie, they found him pawing frantically at the back door, indicating he wanted to go outside. Terence chuckled. "All right, Duke," he said heartily as he sauntered over to open the door. "I'll let you out, boy."

"Can I go out, too, Terence?" Pinocchio asked.

"Why not? It's a beautiful day; we could all use a bit of fresh air."

No sooner had Terence detached the lock and hauled the door aside than Duke took off like a streak of lightning.

The only problem was that the dog took Pinocchio out with him—literally. Pinocchio had enough misfortune to have been standing right in front of Duke while the big dog was prancing about impatiently, right at the moment that Terence opened the door. So when Duke ran out, he shot directly between Pinocchio's legs, inadvertently scooping the boy onto his back in the process. It all happened so fast that neither Pinocchio nor Terence had any warning.

The next thing Pinocchio knew, he was being carried swiftly away, and he was compelled to seize onto Duke's creamy ruff to keep from falling off.

"Pinocchio!" he heard Terence call after him.

But Duke kept going at top speed, barking wildly the whole time. Whether or not he was aware that Pinocchio was astride him, he made no sign.

At first Pinocchio was very nervous, to say the least. But his anxiety soon faded, and as Duke carried him through a wide field of flowers, the boy gave out a whoop and waved his cap around in the air. When Duke at last seemed to notice the boy and realize what he was doing, he stopped so abruptly that Pinocchio was flung to the ground. The boy rolled head over heels before coming to a rest on his back.

Luckily, the grass was thick and soft, so Pinocchio didn't get hurt, though it was some time before he was ready to get up again.

As he lay there, he felt something lift his head, and then Terence's anxious face appeared directly above his. "Pinocchio?" the young man asked in a fearful voice. "Pinocchio, are you all right?"

It was a minute before Pinocchio realized that Terence was kneeling behind him in the grass, holding his head in his lap.

Pinocchio smiled up at the white-haired man and answered right away, "I'm all right."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Terence sighed in relief, then lifted Pinocchio to a sitting position before gathering the child into his arms and hugging him very tightly. The hug felt wonderful, as always, and Pinocchio readily squeezed him back.

"Oh, you had me worried for a minute there, son," he heard Terence breathe into his ear. His heart fluttered upon being addressed as "son".

Terence didn't mean to seem a worrywart, but he had been a great deal more protective of Pinocchio since their affair with Fabrizio. The young man knew he shouldn't fret about every little thing, but he couldn't help it.

He had already lost Pinocchio once; he didn't intend to lose him again.

* * *

The rest of the day went by quite smoothly, with no serious concerns.

At the end of the day, after a capital supper, Terence gave Pinocchio a very soothing bath, with water that was neither too hot nor too cold, and plenty of bubbles. Pinocchio wasn't very fond of deep water, having almost drowned on one occasion; but he did enjoy his bath, and when Terence splashed him teasingly at one point, he giggled and splashed back, so that Terence was dripping himself. But Terence only laughed along as he wiped the moisture from his eyes.

Jiminy made sure to stay well clear of the tub as he watched the two of them. The cricket had to smile at the sight; he hadn't seen Pinocchio this happy for the longest time.

Later, after both Terence and Pinocchio were dry and Pinocchio was dressed in his nightclothes, and after a round of sweet biscuits and warm milk, they all sat together in Pinocchio's room while Terence read a bedtime story, with Duke and Figaro listening attentively at their feet. When the story was over, Terence joined Pinocchio at the side of his bed as they said their prayers.

After that, Pinocchio curled up with Terry on the soft mattress, and Terence tucked them both in. Terence leaned down and kissed Pinocchio goodnight, as he always did, but Pinocchio grabbed his sleeve before he could get away.

"What is it, Pinocchio?"

"Please stay, Terence," the boy entreated. "I—I'm scared I might have that dream again."

In spite of the good day, Pinocchio hadn't forgotten the terrible dream he'd awoken from that morning, and he was afraid he would see Fabrizio again when he closed his eyes.

Terence understood and promptly took a seat alongside him on the bed.

"Don't worry," he said, taking hold of Pinocchio's small hand. "I'll be right here, for as long as you need me. I won't let anything happen to you…I promise."

As he cradled Pinocchio's hand, as he reached out to stroke Pinocchio's face, he began to croon a gentle lullaby. Terence had a notable singing voice, and his voice, along with the lyrics, soothed Pinocchio as much as his loving caress:

_"A gentle breeze  
From Hushabye Mountain  
Softly blows o'er Lullaby Bay.__  
It fills the sails  
Of boats that are waiting,  
Waiting to sail your worries away.  
_

_ "It isn't far  
To Hushabye Mountain,  
And your boat waits down by the key.  
The winds of night  
So softly are sighing.__  
Soon, they will fly your troubles to sea._

_"So close your eyes  
On Hushabye Mountain,  
Wave goodbye to cares of the day.  
And watch your boat  
From Hushabye Mountain  
Sail far away from Lullaby Bay."_

A smile spread over Pinocchio's face while he listened. Slowly, his eyes drifted closed, and he was sleeping soundly before Terence had even finished the song. By the time Terence was through, even Figaro and Duke had drifted off peacefully to sleep, huddled up against each other on the floor. Jiminy was still awake, but he was having a difficult time keeping his eyes open. With a yawn, the cricket stretched out his tiny limbs, then he made way for his own bed.

Before long, Terence was the only one up.

Terence smiled as he regarded Pinocchio, feeling his heart swell and his eyes prickle with unshed tears. He drew the quilt up just a little further, then adjusted the pillow to make sure Pinocchio would be good and comfortable.

Then he leaned down once more to hug him. "Pinocchio," he said, speaking in but a whisper. "My dear, dear little Pinocchio."


	3. Chapter 3: Familiar Faces

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_A lot of my readers have been very impatient for me to update this thing. I kept getting messages, both here and on deviantART, demanding: "When will you post the next chapter? What happens next?" I'm surprised it's taken me this long to update. Part of the trouble was that I plumb didn't know what to write. I had NO idea of what ought to happen next. But thankfully, the muse has made a comeback, and I am proud to present the latest chapter of my Pinocchio classic. (Okay, I don't know about calling it a classic, but it's undoubtedly one of my most beloved stories.) And there are some characters featured here whom you might know from before. _

_Read on, friends, read on!  
_

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**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 3: Familiar Faces**

A week later, Terence had to go to the town market to pick up a few things. They needed flour and eggs, and they were running low on salt as well.

"Would you like to come with me, Pinocchio?" the young man asked grandly as he reached for his black traveling cloak.

Naturally, Pinocchio said yes right away. The boy always looked forward to an outing with Terence; they saw so many interesting people and so many wonderful things, and Terence often bought him a little treat along the way.

Beyond that, Pinocchio simply enjoyed being with his guardian.

Jiminy, however, declined. "That's all right," said the cricket, "I'll just stay here, put my feet up some."

It wasn't far to the market; it only took about fifteen minutes to walk there and back. Jiminy knew Pinocchio would be perfectly safe in Terence's care.

"Suit yourself, Jiminy," was all Terence said while he bound his cloak about his shoulders.

Inwardly, he was glad Jiminy was staying home. The market was often quite crowded this time of day, and Terence didn't want to take the chance of the cricket getting crushed, biffed, or trampled out there.

Furthermore, while Jiminy was Pinocchio's conscience, even he deserved a break every now and again.

Since the weather was fairly mild, Terence kept his hood down, and Pinocchio, as always, donned his feathered cap before bolting out the door.

"We'll be back soon," Terence said before he headed out himself. To the animals, he added meaningfully, "And remember, behave yourselves. That includes you, Duke. Don't go chasing Figaro around and destroying half the house, like you did the last time we left you alone." Duke just lowered his head in chagrin, while Figaro looked on smugly. "As for you, Figaro," Terence continued, "I don't want any monkey business from you, either. Understand?"

"Mrow," was Figaro's rather sullen reply.

"Good," said Terence, now smiling. "See you all later, then."

"So long, Terence," Jiminy called.

With that, Terence was gone, and the door closed firmly after him.

* * *

At the market, there was a good number of people, out to buy and sell. The air rang with their incessant chatter, and Pinocchio was obliged to hold Terence's hand so that they wouldn't get separated. Terence, of course, did not mind in the least. He led the way through the pressing crowds, with Pinocchio trying to keep step with him. As the little boy trailed after the tall white-haired youth, he could not help remembering the time when Fabrizio abducted him. It had been on a day quite similar to this one, when they were in the market. Even to this day, Pinocchio sickened to think about how they'd beaten Terence hard enough to knock him out cold.

Though Terence obviously recovered, Pinocchio had been convinced for a time that they'd killed him. As the child's heart was yet tender from the death of his father, such a loss was more than he could bear.

He remembered wishing he could have died himself.

Pinocchio tried to push the ugly memories away, but for some reason he kept seeing Fabrizio's face, with those sunken eyes, those sharp cheekbones, that chalk-white skin—and that hellish smile. Pinocchio shut his eyes tightly and vigorously shook his head to rid himself of the awful image. When Terence saw this, he didn't stop or slacken his pace, but he asked in a worried voice, "Are you all right, Pinocchio?"

"I'm okay," the boy insisted.

"Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing, Terence. I'm fine."

For a time, Pinocchio _was_ fine—until he spotted someone in the crowd, someone very tall and sinewy, who wore a long black jacket and a black top hat.

"_Fabrizio!_" The name burst from Pinocchio's mouth before he even realized it.

Terence gave quite a start, as did many others. One man who had been carrying a basket of fresh eggs dropped the whole load in his alarm, causing most of the eggs to smash all over the road and creating a remarkable mess.

A donkey got upset and kicked over the wagon it was hitched to, so that the contents went scattering in every direction.

More than one set of eyes rested upon Pinocchio, some of them looking bewildered, others concerned, others angry. The man with the eggs and the owner of the donkey seemed particularly vexed.

The man who'd given Pinocchio such a fright turned around, revealing a face that was—thankfully—not Fabrizio's. His face was fuller, his color was healthier, and he didn't have a mustache.

At once Pinocchio was immensely relieved, and then he felt himself flush from head to toe with intense embarrassment and shame. He ducked his head to avoid everybody's stares. Without a word, Terence went to help the man with the agitated donkey pick up everything and straighten his cart, then he paid for the broken eggs out of his own pocket. Finally he led Pinocchio away, saying apologetically to the onlookers, "We beg your pardon. Please excuse us."

Gradually, one by one, the people returned to their own affairs.

Terence took Pinocchio to a private alcove, where they could be alone for a moment. Pinocchio couldn't bring himself to look at Terence. He kept his gaze on the ground, hoping it would swallow him.

"What was _that_ all about?" he heard Terence ask. While Terence didn't shout—or sound remotely angry—Pinocchio almost wished he would.

"I don't know," said the boy. "I-I thought I saw Fabrizio right there. I thought for a moment that he was coming after me. I couldn't help it; I just panicked."

"Oh," said Terence softly, feeling his heart go out to the child.

Even in death, it seemed Fabrizio maintained the upper hand on them.

"I'm sorry," Pinocchio whispered, his eyes filling with tears.

Slowly, Terence knelt before him, so that they were level with one another. Pinocchio made no resistance as Terence drew him closer and wrapped him in a gentle hug. He rested his forehead against Terence's shoulder, sniffling. "Shh," Terence whispered, rocking the boy idly to and fro, soothing him as best he could. "It's all right, Pinocchio. I promise, it's all right. I'm here, and you're safe. Fabrizio is gone; he can never harm you anymore."

Try as he might, Pinocchio could not hold back a few of the tears. Terence only continued to hold him quietly, telling him to be still, that everything was going to be all right.

When Pinocchio did finally manage to pull himself together, when Terence's arms loosened their hold, Terence lifted his son's chin and asked, "Do you want to go home?"

"N-no," Pinocchio murmured. "I want to stay with you, Terence. I promise, I'll behave."

"Well, all right, then," Terence conceded, and he climbed to his feet once more and dusted off his knees. "Come along."

After that, Pinocchio put forth his most gallant efforts to remain on his very best behavior. A few people watched him warily, but he just smiled at them and tried to act polite. The boy stayed as close to Terence's side as possible, and he helped to carry their purchases. While Terence was in the middle of buying bread, Pinocchio noticed somebody from the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he could see a man approaching them.

This man looked nothing like Fabrizio, and he didn't seem threatening; nevertheless, there was something oddly familiar about him.

Rather than cry out this time, Pinocchio simply tugged on Terence's cloak to get his attention.

"What is it, Pinocchio?"

"Someone's coming this way, Terence."

Then Terence noticed that same man himself. "May I help you, sir?" he asked, somewhat uncertainly, when their visitor had reached them.

The man, who was tall, lean, and rather attractive—with black hair, a small black beard on his chin, and eyes that were almost as blue as Terence's—offered a winsome smile.

"Terence, old friend," he said, "don't you know me?"

At that instant, Terence recognized him.

"_Armando?_" he gasped. "Is that you?"

"In the flesh!"

Less than a minute later, a beautiful young woman with golden hair and a fair complexion joined the man's side. Terence recognized her, too, as did Pinocchio.

"Arietta!" Pinocchio cried.

The woman smiled at him and greeted him brightly, "Hello, Pinocchio."


	4. Chapter 4: Old Friends

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_What's this? An actual update? And one that didn't take a whole year? I'm as surprised as the rest of you. Well, now that school is over (for the time being) and we got the Internet back, I should have loads more time for writing. _

_Enjoy yourselves, mates, and don't forget to review!  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 4: Old Friends  
**

Terence was overjoyed. Without hesitation, he flung his arms about Armando's shoulders and hugged him as hard as he could without breaking him in half. Armando squeezed Terence just as hard. Arietta knelt down to embrace Pinocchio, and the boy readily returned the embrace. "Oh, Armando—it's so good to see you!" Terence cried while the young men clung to one another.

"Never expected to run into you here, old friend, of all places!" Armando sounded equally thrilled, if not more so.

Drawing back to examine him, Terence commented, "You look so…_different._" As Armando was once a circus clown, Terence was used to seeing him in a showy jumpsuit with his face painted brilliant colors.

Now Armando's face was perfectly clean, and he was dressed in simple yet smart clothes, though his countenance was as lively as ever and his eyes yet retained that mischievous spark.

"I suppose I have changed some since my days in the circus," Armando admitted. "But I still have a few of my old tricks left." Reaching behind Terence's ear, he said with his cocky grin, "For instance, I can still do this!"

Before Terence could blink, Armando produced a shiny silver coin, as if from the air itself. Feeling behind his ear, Terence said bewilderedly, "Even after all this time, I still haven't figured out how you're able to do that."

"A true magician never reveals his secrets," Armando said as he gave the coin a little flip and caught it in midair.

When Arietta stood up a minute later, she and Armando switched places, so now Terence was hugging Arietta and Armando was on his knees with Pinocchio enveloped in his arms.

"I missed you so much," Pinocchio confessed.

"And we missed you, Pinocchio," Armando replied gently.

He and Arietta used to be in Fabrizio's circus, too (Arietta's specialty was the high wire act), and when Pinocchio was captured, they and a handful of others befriended him and took part in helping him get out of Fabrizio's clutches, though things hadn't gone quite as planned. Despite Fabrizio and his cruelty, Pinocchio couldn't regret knowing Armando and Arietta—as well as Bernardo, Armando's former partner in clowning; Gahiji, the small, scrappy, slightly eccentric man from North India who specialized in live snakes; and Fergal, the big, black giant of a man who was as tough as steel and yet as soft as a marshmallow.

"Hello, Terence," said Arietta when she was gazing properly into his face.

"Hello, Arietta," he replied warmly. "You look well."

"I am doing very well, thank you. And guess what?" Arietta showed Terence and Pinocchio her left hand; a simple yet elegant silver ring glinted on her third finger.

"You're married?" Terence figured it out before Pinocchio did.

The girl nodded happily. "Just two months ago, this very day, in fact. It was quite unexpected, really; yet I could hardly bring myself to say no when Armando asked me. We kept the ceremony quiet and simple."

"You actually agreed to give your hand to _this_ crazy clown?" Terence asked, feigning shock.

Arietta smiled. "Armando can be very tender when he wants to be," was all she said.

In response to this, Armando strode up to his beautiful wife when he was back on his feet and kissed her sweetly on the cheek.

"Well, that's wonderful!" said Terence, with complete sincerity this time.

"Congratulations!" added Pinocchio.

"Thank you," said Armando and Arietta simultaneously.

"So, what are you two up to these days, anyhow?" Terence asked as he raked his fingers through his gleaming hair. "How are the others? Are they doing all right?"

"Everyone's doing just fine," Armando assured him. "Bernardo's now in charge of a local inn, and Gahiji is his personal assistant. Arietta and I stop by at least once a week to check up on them."

"What about Fergal?" questioned Pinocchio.

"He landed a job down at the docks," said Arietta. "He helps to haul in boats, catch fish, repair nets, and things like that."

"It's not the most fascinating profession in the world," Armando put in, "at least from the way we see it. But last time we saw Fergal, he seemed happy."

It warmed Terence's heart to know his dear companions were all faring so well. It made Pinocchio happy, too.

"What about you?" Armando now inquired. "How are you and Pinocchio getting along, Terence?"

"Couldn't be better," Terence was proud to say. "Pinocchio never gives me a bit of trouble. He is like a true son to me."

Pinocchio felt his spirits soar at this profound statement. "And Terence is like a true father," the boy said.

"Well, we're glad to hear that," said Arietta affectionately. "If any two people in this world truly belong together, it's you."

Pinocchio blushed, while Terence's eyes shone with unshed tears; this was the best compliment anyone could have given them.

"Say," said Armando at length, "how would you like to go with us to visit Bernardo and Gahiji at their inn? It's not far from here. I know they'll be delighted to see you. And we can have a bite to eat while we're at it. I'll buy."

Terence looked at his son. "Want to, Pinocchio?"

"I'd love to!" said Pinocchio without hesitation.

* * *

Less than ten minutes later, Terence and Pinocchio found themselves at the inn of which Armando had spoken. It was a nice place, with two neat brick chimneys and a large wooden sign that read in white letters: THE WHITE FISH INN. It was not so different from the Red Mount Inn that Terence and Pinocchio used to lodge in, albeit it was considerably smaller and the streets that lined its sides were tidier; not as much litter lay scattered about. Armando made a show of opening the front door, and Arietta was the first to set foot over the threshold. Pinocchio was right behind her. Terence went in after Pinocchio, and Armando closed the door as he followed suit.

Inside, the place wasn't anything too fancy, but it was clean and comfortable, free of dust, drafts, rats, roaches, leaks, and the like.

Best of all, it did not reek of cigar smoke, which Pinocchio and Terence hated—mostly because the smell evoked unpleasant memories of Fabrizio, who was rarely seen without a smoldering cigar between his fingers or his teeth.

Many people were in the White Fish Inn that day, but not so many that the place felt overcrowded. The delicious aroma of fish frying laced the air. A short, stocky, middle-aged man and a taller, much skinnier, slightly younger man could be seen behind the main counter, working together as they diligently took orders and passed out food and drink to their guests.

Armando waited until things had quieted down a bit, when the two men were not rushing about nearly so much from here to there, before he called out, "Bernardo! Gahiji!"

Both men looked at the same time in his direction, and both their faces lit up. "Armando!" said the middle-aged man, as if they hadn't spoken in years. "Good to see you again, dear boy! How are you and the missus this fine afternoon?"

Then he noticed Terence and Pinocchio, and his eyes widened. His jaw fell loose. For a moment, he looked like one who'd been struck dumb.

When he found his tongue again, he said in a hushed voice, "Bless my soul! Is it really…?"

"Hello, Bernardo!" Terence greeted him cheerily.

"Hi, Bernardo!" echoed Pinocchio, waving his arm around enthusiastically in the air. "Hi, Gahiji!"

When Bernardo was convinced it really was them, he promptly rushed around to the other side, still garbed in his grease-stained apron. Gahiji was two steps behind him.

Bernardo went to Terence first, and gave him an enormous hug that quite took Terence's breath away. "_Terence!_" Bernardo cried, lifting the young man up until his feet left the floor entirely.

"Bernardo," Terence could barely gasp.

At the same time, Pinocchio ran up to Gahiji and flung his arms about his waist; Gahiji was so thin that Pinocchio's hands easily met each other at the back. Gahiji said nothing, but his pleasure was manifest in the smile on his face and in the way he hugged Pinocchio back and patted the top of the boy's head.

When Bernardo finally set Terence down and Terence could breathe again, Bernardo gave the youth a good-natured slap on the back that nearly knocked him flat on his face.

"Well, well," Bernardo enthused, "this _is _a pleasant surprise! I almost didn't recognize you, my boy!"

"_I_ almost didn't recognize _you_," Terence countered. "Had Armando not pointed you out, I'd have sworn you were somebody else." Just like with Armando, it was very strange not seeing Bernardo in his clown getup.

"And Pinocchio!" said Bernardo when he had the chance to see the child for himself, while Terence and Gahiji embraced. "Fancy running into you, too!"

Pinocchio just smiled and made a prompt beeline into his old friend's outstretched arms. Bernardo didn't crush him half to death as he did with Terence, but he held onto Pinocchio for a good while before he let him go.

"I'm so glad to see you, Bernardo," said Pinocchio. "I missed you very much."

"I missed you, too, son. Is it just me, or have you grown an inch taller since I last saw you?"

"Are you all right?" Terence asked Gahiji in the meantime.

Gahiji nodded and answered in his thick, sticky Indian accent, "Very much all right, thank you, my friend."

"That's good! I'm very glad to hear that."

Once the warm welcomes had been exchanged, someone called out impatiently from one of the tables, "Hey, innkeeper! How's about another refill?"

"Coming right up, sir," Bernardo called back. He then told Gahiji to take care of that man while he took Terence, Pinocchio, and the rest of their group to their own table. He led them to one of the best tables, next to one of the biggest windows. Pinocchio sat with Terence on one side, while Armando and Arietta sat together on the other, with Terence and Arietta closest to the window. "You are my special guests, so order anything you like," said Bernardo when they were all seated. When Armando started to pull out his purse, Bernardo made him put it away. "It is all on the house, gentlemen—and lady," he added, with a meaningful look at Arietta. "Eat, drink, and be merry!"

"Thank you, Bernardo," Pinocchio said politely.

"That's most generous of you," added Terence.

Armando joked, "Maybe we should bring you two around here more often; that way, we'll get more free food!"

"Don't push your luck, sonny," Bernardo told his comrade, giving him a playful punch in the shoulder. "I may be generous, but I'm not _that_ generous."

After taking a minute to figure out what they wanted to eat, they placed their orders. Bernardo walked away and returned in about a half-hour with the food, and they eagerly dug in.

It was all delicious.

Terence made Bernardo swear to share with him his secret recipe for the clam chowder, and Pinocchio never would have believed fried fish fillets with buttery potatoes on the side could taste so good. The tea that accompanied the meal was wonderful, too, with as much milk and sugar as they preferred. Sitting with loved ones in such a cozy place made it even more pleasant, and for a time, Pinocchio concentrated more on eating than talking.

After they had finished, Bernardo served them delectable marmalade rolls and cake, still warm from the oven, for dessert.

When the meal was over, Pinocchio was feeling very well fed and extremely comfortable. He was glad to see that Terence was in no hurry to leave; he wished himself that they could stay there all day.

"So, tell me, friends," said Terence as he stirred the remains of his tea around his cup, "what have you been doing with your lives since your time with…you-know-who?" he added prudently, catching himself before he gave voice to Fabrizio's name in front of Pinocchio. "What do you plan to pursue, besides just the married life?"

"Well, for now, we work little odd jobs here and there," Armando said. "Arietta weaves baskets and sells them, and every now and again I help Bernardo and Gahiji with a few errands. What we _really_ want to do is own our own little shop."

"What kind of shop?" asked Pinocchio.

"The kind that sells just about everything," said Arietta. "Furniture, flowers, clothes, jewelry, books, and all sorts of knickknacks. There is this very nice cottage, now empty, that would be perfect for our business. Armando and I are working to store up enough to buy it from the previous owner. Unfortunately, it's quite expensive, and goodness knows when we'll be able to afford it—if ever."

"I could help you there," said Terence. "I've got more than plenty of money on hand."

Armando and Arietta looked at him in surprise.

"Sure," Terence insisted. "I can easily support Pinocchio and myself, and lay by for a rainy day. Whatever you need to purchase that cottage of yours, I can chip in some and help speed up the process."

"You would really do that?" Arietta gasped.

"Certainly."

"We don't ask for charity," said Armando, shifting somewhat uncomfortably in his chair.

Terence smiled at them, a knowing glint in his eye. "I didn't say I'd do it for nothing."

Now his friends regarded him with immense interest, as if this were a once-in-a-lifetime bargain. "Oh, really?" declared Armando. "What exactly do you propose?"

"Tell me," said Terence, "have either of you attended school?"

"I have," Armando said. "I am quite skilled in the fields of arithmetic and history."

"Then you will be the one to teach Pinocchio arithmetic and history." When Armando looked quizzical, Terence explained, "Pinocchio needs proper schooling, you know, and I'm not too keen on sending him to one of those dismal government schools where they use those dreadful rods on the students, and where Pinocchio could encounter all sorts of mischief."

Now Armando nodded with understanding and empathy. "Oh, yes," he murmured, "I remember all too well what _that_ was like. My old schoolmaster would have given you-know-who a run for his money." (Like Terence, Armando was also cautious about speaking Fabrizio's name in Pinocchio's presence.) "And it was purely through my clowning skills that I was able to survive the other boys."

In another minute, the young ex-clown said, "All right, Terence, it's a deal. If Pinocchio has no objection, I'll be more than glad to be his tutor."

Pinocchio agreed. He wasn't so sure about the subjects, but the idea of Armando being one of his teachers appealed to him very much.

Turning to Arietta, Terence queried, "And what do you specialize in, Arietta?"

"Well," she replied, "I happen to know a great deal about music and art. While I never actually set foot in a school, I've done plenty of reading and studying over the years."

"So you will be Pinocchio's instructor in music and art. Okay?"

She nodded vigorously, her whole face brightening. "I would be delighted!"

"Then it's settled," Terence said. "I will help you with your business, and in exchange, you will help me with my son's education."

He offered his hand to each of his companions, and they all shook on it.


	5. Chapter 5: Lost and Found

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Can you believe it? Another update, and I only posted the last chapter the day before yesterday! It's funny, but I woke up this morning knowing exactly how I wanted this to go. And we have a special surprise at the end!  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 5: Lost and Found  
**

When Terence realized what time it was, he gasped, "Good heavens, Pinocchio, we'd better get home! I didn't plan to stay out this long."

Pinocchio hadn't even been aware of the time until it was pointed out to him. Reluctant as the boy was to leave his old friends, he knew Jiminy would be very worried if he and Terence didn't come home soon. Duke and Figaro would wonder where their supper was, as would Cleo. When Terence told Armando and Arietta that they had to leave now, Armando pushed back his chair and jumped up, saying, "Well, then, we better be on our way at once."

"Would you mind if we accompanied you to your house?" asked Arietta as she stood herself. "After all, if we're going to be Pinocchio's tutors, we'll need to know where you live."

Terence smiled. "Of course," he said, "by all means."

Pinocchio liked the idea of spending at least a few more minutes in Armando and Arietta's company.

So, after bidding goodbye to Bernardo and Gahiji (Bernardo made sure to hug both Terence and Pinocchio twice, and Terence made a solemn promise they would visit again very soon), the foursome left the White Fish Inn together, with Terence leading the way this time. As it was quite late in the afternoon, there were many people hurrying to their homes, and there was a good deal of pushing and shoving. Armando and Arietta held hands to stay together, while Armando's other hand gripped Terence's shoulder, and Terence managed to slip through the horde with relative ease. Pinocchio, being the smallest, suffered the worst of it.

The boy tried to stay as close to his companions as possible, but there were simply too many people, and more than one person cut between him and Arietta. Once, someone quite rudely plowed into Pinocchio sideways, nearly knocking him off balance. Instead of apologizing, that same person snapped, "Watch where you're going, boy!"

By the time Pinocchio recovered his feet, neither Arietta nor Armando nor Terence were anywhere in sight. Trying hard to not panic, Pinocchio struggled to weave his way through the crazy chaos. "Terence!" he hollered out. "Terence! Armando! Arietta! Wait for me!" Unfortunately, the child's voice could hardly be heard over all the ruckus.

Although he tried to maintain a steady course, he was inadvertently driven from here to there, pushed around like a helpless bird caught in an unpredictable wind.

At one point, Pinocchio was sure he could see a glimpse of Terence's cloak. But when he caught up with that figure, he saw instead that it was an old, bent, ugly woman with flyaway gray hair and a hooked nose, who looked very much like the wicked witch from the storybook that Terence often read to him at bedtime—the one who captured unsuspecting children and ate them.

"Well, hello there, my little chicken," the wizened crone grinned when she saw him, revealing a number of uneven yellow teeth. "Lost your way, have ye?"

Pinocchio said nothing, but turned away from her at once and fled in a great fright, never daring to look back.

* * *

"My goodness, what a zoo!" said Arietta when they made it out of the village and were on the country road, where they could move around much more freely.

"I haven't seen a crowd like that since our last performance with Fabrizio," added Armando, shaking his head.

"Well, there it is, friends," Terence announced proudly, pointing to his cottage, which lay less than a quarter of a mile from where they stood. "Just by the hills."

"That white one, with the red brick chimney, with all those flowers in the front?" asked Arietta.

"That's the one."

Armando whistled through his teeth. "Nice," he commented. "Very nice, indeed. We could use a shack like that ourselves."

Arietta was just as impressed. "You and Pinocchio must love it there," she told Terence.

At the mention of Pinocchio, Terence glanced around for the boy, only to find—to his utmost astonishment—that he was not with them.

"Pinocchio?" the man called. "Pinocchio?" When there was no answer, and when Pinocchio was nowhere to be seen, Terence turned anxiously to the others. "Where is he?"

Surprised, Armando and Arietta looked about in every direction as well. "He was right behind me," said Arietta. "At least, I _thought_ he was…"

"Oh, dear," said Armando in a low tone of dismay. "He must still be in the village."

At this, Terence felt his heart constrict and his gut twist into a sickening knot. "Oh, _no!_" the youth groaned, clapping a hand to his forehead. "Not again!"

* * *

It seemed to Pinocchio that he was going constantly in circles. The poor little lad had no idea where he was, and nothing looked familiar.

He wanted to go back to the White Fish Inn, where Bernardo and Gahiji could help him, or at least keep him safe until Terence found him. But he didn't even know where that was, either. Meanwhile, the sun was sinking lower and lower in the sky; Pinocchio knew from past experience the dangers of wandering the streets at night. He recalled hearing once that you were supposed to stay in one place when you were lost, but such counsel was difficult to heed, especially when he thought of who may come after him. Fabrizio was gone, but there were plenty of other people who could cause him harm. Pinocchio thought of that old hag he'd just run across, and an involuntary shiver raced down his spine.

He wished Jiminy were here. Jiminy might not have been able to do much more about the situation than he could, but it would have been a world of relief to have the little cricket at his side. By this time, Pinocchio was certain that Jiminy was very worried; he and Terence should have long since returned to the house. Figaro and Duke were probably wondering where they were, too, what could have happened to them. In his mind's eye, Pinocchio could see Duke clawing at the door and barking fretfully while Figaro meowed his little head off. If Duke were here, he might be able to sniff the way home; Terence was always saying the dog could smell a hunk of meat a mile away.

"Terence!" the boy wailed, for what must have been the millionth time. "_Terence!_" He could not help the crack in his voice, nor the few tears that slipped down his cheeks.

There was no reply, and Terence was nowhere to be found. A few people continued to roam the streets, but none of them seemed to notice Pinocchio, or care.

However, as Pinocchio fought to not break down, a voice addressed him—a woman's voice, and a remarkably kindly one at that, with the exceptional sort of sweetness and gentleness that Terence possessed:

"Are you lost, child? Might I be of any help?"


	6. Chapter 6: A Woman of Mystery

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Hot dog, another update! I think we're finally getting somewhere with this thing. With luck, these updates will start occurring more often. Happy reading, readers! Don't forget to review!  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 6: A Woman of Mystery**

Looking up, Pinocchio saw a beautiful young woman in a deep blue cloak standing by him, regarding him with gentle concern. She looked to be roughly around Terence's age—somewhere in her early twenties, perhaps younger.

Even in the dimming twilight, Pinocchio could clearly see that she was astonishingly lovely, with a fair, heart-shaped face, eyes as intensely green as Terence's eyes were intensely blue, finely sculpted lips that put the rose to shame, and though her hood was drawn, several loose tendrils of rich brown hair trailed in her face. She also held herself with an extraordinary grace, a sort of noble dignity that only Terence surpassed. Pinocchio's throat went dry and his heartbeat quickened at the sight of her—not from fear, for she looked like she wouldn't hurt so much as a spider, but because of her stunning beauty, and he also sensed the same spirit in her that he sensed in Terence.

"Hello, there," the young woman said sweetly, offering a smile that could melt butter. Her voice resembled rich, golden honey, a harp set in perfect tune. Pinocchio noticed she spoke with an accent similar to the one Terence had, although hers wasn't nearly as prominent. Wherever she hailed from, it certainly wasn't from around here. "What is your name, child?" she asked.

Pinocchio faltered for a minute or so before he managed to stammer, "P-Pinocchio."

"Pinocchio," she repeated slowly, savoring the name, as if it were an exotic flavor. "A rather peculiar name, I must say. But if that's what you go by, that's what I shall call you."

Making a little curtsy, she added on, "My name is Rhiella."

_Ree—ell—uh? _Pinocchio echoed in his mind. He had never heard of such a name, yet he found it strangely appealing.

"You look like you could use some assistance, Pinocchio," the lady called Rhiella continued. "Is there someone you're looking for?"

"Yes," was all Pinocchio could say.

"Would you like me to help you look?"

Again, Pinocchio hesitated, knowing he wasn't supposed to talk to strangers.

But then, Terence had been a stranger to him at one time.

Furthermore, this woman might be his best chance for finding Terence and getting back home. So, at length, Pinocchio nodded and replied in a rather quavery voice, "A-all right."

* * *

Needless to say, Terence was in the deepest distress.

The memory of Fabrizio kidnapping Pinocchio was all too fresh, and Terence's heart sickened to think about what could have happened to the poor boy this time. The streets were much less crowded by the time he, Armando, and Arietta made it back to the village, but there was no telling where Pinocchio could have gone. Though he and his companions called Pinocchio's name repeatedly, though they searched everywhere, they could find no trace of the boy.

At one point, Terence sought the assistance of a soldier patrolling the streets.

"Can you help me, sir?" the youth entreated, holding out his hands beseechingly. "I'm looking for my son. We got separated by mistake, and I don't know where he could be."

Eyeing him skeptically, the soldier inquired, "Aren't you a little young to be a father, young man?"

"Well, he's not exactly my son—"

"'Exactly'?" Now the soldier's dark eyes narrowed in distrust. "Either he is, or he is not."

"All right, he's not," said Terence, feeling a twinge of annoyance. "But—"

"Are you related in any way?"

"Well…no…"

"Then what concern is he of yours?"

"Look, I'm trying to find a lost child!" Terence said, and it was only with the utmost effort that he refrained from shouting. "Could you at least condescend to lend your assistance in this unfortunate matter?"

"Look here, boy," the soldier shot back sharply, "they don't pay me to go gallivanting about this town, chasing down little roguish runaways!"

Unable to hold it back, Terence burst out angrily, "Pinocchio didn't run away! He's _lost!_"

"So are countless other boys in this area! And the fact is, _sir_, even if we tried, we couldn't possibly find them all! Who knows whether this imp of yours even _wants _to be found?"

"I'm asking you to help me! Will you not help?"

"You want help? Here's some advice—if you want a kid to stay close to you, use a leash." Turning away, the soldier went on brusquely, "And now, if you'll excuse me, I have far more urgent business to attend to. Good day to you."

Terence stood where he was and watched him go. When the soldier had disappeared from his sight, Terence closed his eyes and clapped a hand over them in dismay.

_A lot of good _that _did,_ he thought. _Now what am I going to do?_

"What was all the shouting?" Armando's voice sounded from behind.

Slowly taking his hand away, Terence glanced dejectedly over his shoulder at his friends. All Terence would say was, "How am I supposed to find Pinocchio if no one will cooperate with me?"

"Don't worry, Terence," said Arietta, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "We'll find him."

Terence recalled that the last time he and Pinocchio were separated like this, it had taken him weeks to find the boy again. Every single day of those weeks had been torture. Terence didn't think he could go through something like that again.

If anything happened to that poor child…he was at a loss of what he would do. He certainly hadn't forgotten that horrible night when he came across Pinocchio's lifeless body at Fabrizio's circus after both he and Fabrizio had taken a tragic fall from the high wire. It had all but destroyed Terence. Though Pinocchio had been revived later on by the Blue Fairy, Terence wasn't sure if the child would be so lucky this time.

"We've_ got_ to find him," the white-haired youth agonized aloud.

* * *

"Tell me, Pinocchio," said Rhiella as they walked together, holding hands so they would stay together, "who is it that you're looking for? Is it your parents?"

"Well, sort of," Pinocchio admitted. "I'm looking for a tall man with white hair and blue eyes."

Hearing this, Rhiella froze in her tracks, and Pinocchio was forced to stop with her. "A tall man?" she echoed, her voice hushed, her forest-green eyes wide with astonishment. "White hair? Blue eyes?"

Pinocchio nodded. "Uh-huh. He's also got this funny moon-shaped thing on his face, and his name is Terence."

Now Rhiella dropped his hand at once, as though it had just burned her. She staggered a little, and had to brace herself against a nearby wall to keep from falling entirely to the ground.

"What's wrong, Miss Rhiella?" asked Pinocchio, looking at her with concern. He saw that her beautiful face had gone quite pale; she looked like she'd just seen a ghost.

With one hand clutching her heart, her eyes stricken, Rhiella was barely able to gasp, "_Terence!_"

Judging from the woman's reaction, Pinocchio realized she must know Terence personally—or had known him at one point.

"Do you know him?" he asked.

Before Rhiella could answer, a desperate voice sounded nearby. "Pinocchio! _Pinocchio!_"

Rhiella hesitated but a second before turning and fleeing the scene. She never said another word, nor did she look back—she simply took off like a frightened deer and was gone in the blink of an eye.

Pinocchio didn't have long to puzzle over this, for Terence was sprinting toward him at that moment. "_Pinocchio!_" the youth cried out, the name tearing from him like a sob. Waves of joy and relief flooded Pinocchio at the sight of his beloved guardian, and he didn't hesitate to run to him as well. They met up within two seconds. Terence fell to his knees, and Pinocchio all but flung himself into his guardian's arms, nearly knocking him flat.

Both of them were in tears.

"_Pinocchio!_" Terence repeated fervidly, as he hugged the child for all he was worth while his tears flowed freely. "Oh, my dear Pinocchio! Oh, I'm so glad I found you!"

"Me too, Terence!" Pinocchio sobbed back.

Drawing back from the embrace, Terence demanded, "Where have you _been? _We've been looking for you for hours! You had me worried to death!"

"I got lost in the big crowd," Pinocchio confessed. "I didn't know where you were…and I guess I strayed a bit too far."

"Don't you ever do that to me again, Pinocchio," Terence scolded him. "Do you hear me?"

Bowing his head in chagrin, all Pinocchio could find to say was, "I'm sorry."

In a moment, Terence relented. With a deep sigh, he pulled Pinocchio back into his arms and held him once more. "Oh…but I'm so grateful you're safe," he whispered into the boy's ear.

As they clung to one another like that, Terence looked up from Pinocchio's shoulder, and thought he saw a hooded figure watching them from the shadows. Terence couldn't be certain, but he had the queerest feeling he had seen that person before, whoever they were. But he had only blinked once, and whoever was there—assuming they were even there in the first place—was gone.

Right then, Armando and Arietta joined up with Terence and Pinocchio.

"Oh, thank goodness!" cried Arietta when she saw for herself that Pinocchio was safe and sound.

"Are you all right, Pinocchio?" Armando asked solicitously. "You gave us quite a scare."

Pinocchio nodded and replied, "I'm all right."

Armando then turned to Terence, who remained on his knees, staring directly ahead, his eyes fixed and his mouth agape, as if he were in a trance.

"Terence?" When nothing happened, Armando tapped the young man hard on the shoulder. "Hey—Terence!"

"Huh?" Terence peered up at him bemusedly.

"What's the matter with you? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Shaking his head slightly to snap himself out of it, Terence murmured, "Nothing. It's just…nothing." As the young man climbed to his feet, he told Pinocchio, "Come on, let's get home."

Even as they were on their way back to the cottage, Terence kept stopping and glancing over his shoulder. More than once, Pinocchio had to call for him, and once Armando was obliged to march up to Terence and snap his fingers loudly in front of the youth's face to bring him back to the present moment. Terence gave quite a start at the unexpected noise. Even when he was facing Armando properly, Armando could tell he wasn't focused.

"What is with you, Terence?" Armando inquired. "You're acting very odd."

"Are you sure there's nothing wrong?" asked Arietta.

But all Terence did was shake his head, and all he said was, "Forgive me. I—I guess I'm not thinking straight right now."

Turning to Pinocchio, Arietta asked, "Did you run into anyone strange today, Pinocchio?"

Pinocchio decided to say nothing about the repulsive old hag, who still gave him unpleasant shivers to even think about. "I met this awfully nice lady, who helped me out," he said.

"Oh, indeed?" said Armando, arching an eyebrow. "Who was this 'awfully nice lady', if I may be so bold to ask?"

"She was very pretty, probably the most beautiful lady I ever saw in my life. She said her name was R…Ree…_Rhiella_." It took Pinocchio a moment to give the foreign name proper pronunciation.

When Terence heard this, he became stone-still on the spot. All of the color drained from his face like water through a spigot, while his heart dropped to the soles of his boots.

For a second, he was sure Pinocchio must be joking.

Yet Pinocchio hardly ever lied to him, and where else could the boy have picked up such a name, anyway? It wasn't a very common name, least of all in this country.

But no, Terence's mind refuted, that couldn't be! Not her…not here, of all places…

"Terence?" he could barely hear Pinocchio's anxious voice saying. "What's the matter, Terence?"

"You look positively dreadful," said Armando. "Are you all right?"

"Terence?" Arietta persisted when the youth did not answer.

Terence struggled to get hold of himself. "I-I—I'm fine," he muttered, although the audible tremor in his voice and the sickly color of his face clearly indicated otherwise. "I-I just need to get to the house."

He certainly looked like he needed to sit down, so Armando slipped an arm around his shoulders and said, "Well, then, we had better get a move on."


	7. Chapter 7: Bittersweet Reminiscence

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Surprise, surprise, another update! Everybody mambo! Yeah, seriously, I know I've been leaving you guys hanging, and for that you have my sincerest apologies. But a good story can't be rushed. As corny as it sounds, a story is like a child: it requires time, care, and attention. I'd have to say this chapter is my most favorite thus far. If you cry easily, you'll want to keep a hankie handy.  
_

_It's funny, but I could clearly hear Elvis's "Are You Lonesome Tonight" playing in my head as I was applying the final touches.  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 7: Bittersweet Reminiscence  
**

When at last they reached the cottage, Armando and Arietta bade Terence and Pinocchio goodbye and promised to return the following week for Pinocchio's lessons. Pinocchio gave them each a huge hug, and they hugged the boy just as tightly.

Seeing the state Terence was in, Armando told Pinocchio softly, "Keep an eye on him, will you?"

Pinocchio just nodded.

Armando then ruffled the boy's hair affectionately as he said, "It's good to see you again, Pinocchio."

"It's good to see you again, too, Armando."

Arietta gave Pinocchio a kiss on the cheek, then she linked her arm with her husband's and they walked together into the deepening dusk.

Terence opened the front door without a word and led the way into the house.

No sooner had they set foot over the threshold than Duke and Figaro came running to greet them. Barking with delight, Duke jumped onto his back feet and held out his front paws to Terence. But Terence only said, "Down, Duke."

Surprised, Duke dropped back to all fours. He looked at Terence quizzically, one ear cocked above the other, but Terence walked past him as if the dog weren't even there. Even when Figaro rubbed himself against Terence's ankle, the white-haired youth paid no attention. Pinocchio, on the other hand, promptly flung his arms about Duke's neck and greeted him enthusiastically, "Hi, Duke! Did ya miss us?"

The collie wagged his bushy tail in response and gave the boy's face a hearty lick. Pinocchio then knelt to give Figaro a nice scratch behind the ears.

Jiminy, who at that time was perched on the hearth, said, "Hey, Terence—where have you and Pinoke been all day? I was just starting to worry!"

"Sorry we took so long, Jiminy," said Terence quietly, not bothering to look at the cricket as he set down their purchases from the market. "We just got a little…sidetracked."

Jiminy could tell he was deeply troubled about something. "What's wrong, Terence? You all right?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't look 'fine' to me. What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, come on, don't give me any of that! I know something's got to be up. What is it?"

"It's really none of your business." The words came out sharper than Terence intended. Jiminy looked startled at first, then hurt. Immediately Terence regretted what he'd just done and didn't hesitate to apologize. "Forgive me, Jiminy. I didn't mean to be cross with you. I'm just all…mixed up right now. If you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about it."

Though Jiminy was still a little stung, he nodded and said softly, "Okay, I understand."

He looked at Pinocchio, who only shrugged his shoulders, his expression revealing he was as baffled by Terence's odd behavior as the cricket was.

* * *

Terence's strange mood lasted all the rest of that evening. He was much quieter than usual, avoiding direct eye contact with everybody, moving about in some sort of stupor. When it was suppertime, he gave the animals their food and water, as he always did, and he served Pinocchio and Jiminy some vegetable soup and brown bread. But he didn't join them, and just walked out of the room as soon as they were all fed. "Aren't you going to eat, Terence?" Pinocchio asked.

"I'm not hungry," was all Terence would say.

Pinocchio sighed, but ate his soup without complaining. While the food tasted just fine, this marked the first time Terence missed out on a meal with him.

What was wrong with Terence, anyway? Pinocchio had never seen him like this before. Whatever it was, it had to be serious.

Around bedtime, Pinocchio ended up dressing himself and climbing into bed on his own. Of course, he was perfectly capable of doing this, but it wasn't the same without Terence there.

Terence usually read him a story before bed and sang him a lullaby or two, but Pinocchio had a feeling there weren't going to be any stories or songs tonight.

The boy lay quietly under his covers, his teddy bear by his side. He waited a good half-hour for Terence to come in and tell him goodnight, but Terence never came. Though Pinocchio was tired out from his big day, for some reason he couldn't bring himself to fall asleep. While he managed to close his eyes for a few minutes, they always kept snapping open. He shifted around on the mattress a number of times, trying to find a comfortable sleeping position. It did no good.

Pinocchio didn't know what time of the night it was, but he ultimately reached a point where he couldn't stand it any longer. He needed to see Terence, to talk to him.

So, taking his bear with him, the boy slipped out of bed and crept out the door.

A red-orange glow on the wall told him there was a fire burning in the hearth, and so that was where he headed. Sure enough, Terence was there, sitting in one of the special chairs. He was leaning slightly to one side, with one hand covering his eyes. Whether or not he was asleep, Pinocchio could not tell. But Terence proved to be awake and alert, for although his hand continued to shield his face, he murmured aloud, "Shouldn't you be in bed, Pinocchio?"

Pinocchio often wondered how Terence did that. The man seemed to notice everything; it was almost impossible to take him by surprise.

Slowly, Pinocchio ventured closer to his guardian. "I couldn't sleep," he admitted.

At length, Terence withdrew his hand and opened his eyes. He glanced over at Pinocchio, but said nothing. He didn't look angry, nor did he look particularly happy.

"Can I stay with you?" Pinocchio petitioned.

He was sure he would be sent back to his room on the spot, but Terence gave in. "Come here," said the young man quietly, opening his arms to the child.

Feeling a surge of relief that Terence wanted him with him, Pinocchio made a swift beeline into the awaiting arms. Very gently, Terence lifted Pinocchio into his lap, stuffed bear and all, and enfolded him in his arms. He leaned back into the chair, so that Pinocchio was half-lying on his chest. He sighed. "I do feel the need to hold something," he told his little one softly.

As they cuddled like this, Pinocchio found the courage to ask, "Why are you so sad, Terence? Are…are you all right? Is everything all right?"

His concern touched Terence's heart. Most of the time, _he _was the one to ask whether everything was all right.

Terence had always been there when Pinocchio needed him; now he felt he needed Pinocchio, for a change.

"Oh, I don't know," the white-haired youth answered wearily. "I just feel so…overwhelmed. It's like everything's been turned upside-down, all of a sudden. I don't know what to do, let alone what to think." He paused briefly, before going on, "That woman you said you met with earlier…the one who helped you…you said her name was Rhiella?" He spoke the name as if it were sacred.

"That's what she told me."

Terence made a strange choking sound. When Pinocchio peered up at his guardian, he was stunned to see that his eyes were swimming in a pool of tears. The look on Terence's face almost made Pinocchio want to cry himself. For a moment, Terence couldn't speak. Even after he had found his tongue again, the emotion in his voice was tangible. "Rhiella—I can't believe it. It can't be true. It just _can't_ be…" His hand stole over his heart, holding it as if to keep it from escaping his very chest.

"Who's Rhiella?" Pinocchio couldn't help asking.

Terence was silent for such a long time that Pinocchio felt he would never get an answer. But then, at long last, Terence did finally speak.

"She is a girl I used to know. It wasn't that long ago, yet it feels like it's been forever."

"Did she mean a lot to you?"

"Yes," Terence whispered, his voice and countenance revealing a love and a longing deeper than anything Pinocchio could have imagined. "Yes, she did. Still does, as a matter of fact."

"Do you…do you love her?" It was the question Pinocchio dreaded the most, yet it found its way off his tongue all the same.

Terence nodded as his tears began to flow. "More than my life, Pinocchio. More than anything."

Jiminy, who was still up, entered this conversation at this point. "What happened?" asked the cricket, gazing down solicitously at Terence from his spot on the hearth. "It must have been awful to have come between you and this girl."

Shaking his head very sorrowfully, Terence replied, "It just wasn't meant to be. We lost each other, in every sense of the word. She all but disappeared from my life, though she never left my mind…or my heart. Even now, not a single day goes by when I don't think of her, and I would gladly trade the world to get her back."

Neither Jiminy nor Pinocchio knew what to say after this. This had to be the saddest, most romantic thing either of them had ever heard.

Pinocchio realized Rhiella must have been a truly extraordinary woman, to have captured Terence's heart so completely. He wondered if this Rhiella he had encountered in town—assuming she was _the_ Rhiella they were talking about—felt the same way about Terence. He remembered how shocked she had been when his name was mentioned, and how frantically she had run away just as Terence was coming.

Pinocchio wondered where she was now.

Above all else, notwithstanding it was a very foolish idea, the child truly couldn't help wondering if Terence loved Rhiella more than he loved him. He dared not give voice to such a question, yet the thought nibbled at the back of his mind.

They stayed like this for a long time, Pinocchio growing increasingly drowsy until at last he drifted off to sleep, right in the warmth of Terence's arms. When Terence sensed the child was dead to the world, he lifted Pinocchio up with him as he rose to his feet. Jiminy's bed was already made on the hearth, so the cricket simply headed for that and turned himself in.

Slowly, quietly, Terence carried Pinocchio back to his room, where he gently laid the boy down with his bear, tucked him in, and kissed him, as he had so many times before.

However, just as he was turning to the door, Terence realized he couldn't be alone tonight. He looked back at Pinocchio for just a moment, then, hoping the child would not object, went back and lay next to him on the bed. Of course, there was plenty of room for the young man to stretch out, and the pillows were large and thick enough for both Terence and Pinocchio to share. Terence lay still at first, but felt the desire—the need—to get closer. So he slid one arm around Pinocchio and drew him just a little closer to his side. He kissed his little one once more as a final tear dripped down his face, and then he closed his eyes and managed to fall asleep himself.


	8. Chapter 8: An Old Nightmare

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Here you are, ladies and gents, a brand-new chapter to your favorite Pinocchio story! This one's considerably shorter than the others, but it sure packs a punch. I decided it was time to crank up the suspense another notch.  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 8: An Old Nightmare  
**

Pinocchio dreamed he was back in his old house, the one he used to reside in with his old father before he died. Everything looked pretty much the way it had before; the only difference was that there was no one else around. All was quiet…too quiet for comfort. As Pinocchio searched the place, he came across a solitary figure standing by one of the windows. When the figure's face was revealed, Pinocchio saw—to his horror—it was Fabrizio.

The man was wearing the same clothes he'd worn on the night of his demise: a long, sleek black tailcoat, milky breeches, black boots that stretched to his knees, and of course, his characteristic top hat.

"Fabrizio!" the child cried out.

"Hello, Pinocchio," said Fabrizio, in a voice of ice and venom. "Miss me?"

Pinocchio would have fled on the spot, but he couldn't move. His whole body appeared to be paralyzed, as if held in place by some strange spell.

"I have been expecting you," Fabrizio continued. Although his face was half-shadowed by the brim of his hat, his black, soulless eyes shone with a malicious gleam.

"No!" Pinocchio wailed. "It's not possible! You're not real! You're dead!"

"Of course, I'm dead, you half-wit," Fabrizio told him vituperatively. "You should know; you're the one who killed me in the first place."

"No!" Pinocchio refuted again. "No, I didn't! I swear, I didn't!"

"Don't pretend innocence, boy. You are responsible for my death…and always will be. You know it."

"No—it was an accident!" Again, Pinocchio attempted to run, yet he still could not budge an inch in either direction.

"Had it not been for you," said Fabrizio, hovering over him like an unholy demon sent to claim his soul, "I would still be alive. Everything that happened that night was your fault. _You—are—guilty._"

"NO!" Now Pinocchio screamed so loudly that he woke himself up. His screaming also aroused Terence, who immediately bolted upright.

"Pinocchio!" gasped the young man. "Pinocchio, what is it? What happened?"

Pinocchio was not aware of his guardian, or of anything else for the time being.

Even wide awake, the boy could still see Fabrizio's face, as clearly and luridly as he ever had; he could still hear the dead man's voice whispering in his ear, accusing him, taunting him relentlessly: _Murderer…betrayer…_

Beating frantically at his head with his fists, as if by doing so he could actually knock out the horrid apparition, Pinocchio shouted with all his might, "Get out! _Get out!_"

"Pinocchio!" Terence shouted himself.

"Get out, get out, get out, get out, GET OUT!"

"Pinocchio!"

"_Leave me alone!_"

"_PINOCCHIO!_" This marked the very first time that Terence had yelled directly at Pinocchio, but there was no other way he could get the boy's attention.

After that, Pinocchio was still, though he trembled violently all over from head to toe, hardly able to get his breath. His face was soaking wet with mingled perspiration and tears, while his heart beat a mile a second. His stomach heaved, and for a dreadful moment he feared he would be sick on the spot. When Terence asked Pinocchio again, in a much softer tone, what had happened, if he was all right, the child took one look at his guardian and flung himself into his arms, where he dissolved at once into a puddle of tears. Though he never said a word—he couldn't speak even if he'd wished it—Terence guessed correctly what it was that had his son in this state.

For the time being, Terence was able to forget about Rhiella and his own pain as he enveloped his son in his strong, gentle arms and tried once more to soothe him. "Calm down, Pinocchio," he whispered. "Calm down. It's all right."

"Fabrizio," was all Pinocchio could gasp between sobs. "Fabrizio…Fabrizio…"

Terence's heart ached for his poor child as his assumption was verified. _Not again, _the young man groaned inwardly. _When will this end? Why won't you leave us in peace, Fabrizio? _

Was there no escape from this nightmare? Was there no relief from this pain? What could they do? Helpless to do anything else, Terence could only hold Pinocchio closer and let the boy cry, while he shed a few tears of his own.

Even after the tears had run dry, sleep was impossible. Terence allowed Pinocchio to curl up on his lap, and he dozed lightly himself now and again, but Pinocchio remained wide-awake until morning.


	9. Chapter 9: Lessons

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Well, that was fast! It only took me about an hour or so to write this chapter. It's much mellower than the previous chapter. It's basically a "school day" for Pinocchio, as you might call it. _

_Despite the simplicity of this chapter, I enjoyed writing it very much. It feels wonderful to bring back some of the old gang from the old story. Naturally, I look forward to your feedback.  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 9: Lessons  
**

About a week later, Armando and Arietta arrived at the cottage. They came bright and early, and they made sure to bring plenty of supplies with them. To make themselves look more like teachers, they were dressed in their finest clothes; Arietta wore her hair in a formal knot at the nape of her neck, and Armando had slicked back his own hair and trimmed his beard. When they stood at the front door, Armando was the one to knock.

Within five minutes, Pinocchio answered the door. "Armando! Arietta!" he said, looking surprised and pleased to see them.

"Hello again, Pinocchio," said Arietta, smiling warmly at her small pupil. "Ready for your first day of lessons?"

"I guess so." Pinocchio stepped further back and opened the door wider so they could enter. "Come in!"

"Thank you very much," said Armando as he stepped grandly over the threshold.

"Terence," Pinocchio called, "Arietta and Armando are here!"

In another minute, Terence appeared. "Good morning, Terence," Armando greeted the young man.

Terence only groaned softly in reply as he gingerly kneaded his brow with his fingertips. Armando lifted an eyebrow slightly at him. "Are you feeling all right?"

Arietta also noticed that Terence was quite pale, and he had dark smudges under his eyes. In the light coming in from the window, Pinocchio didn't look so well either. "Haven't you two been sleeping well?" she asked.

"Not really," Terence murmured, still massaging his forehead. "No."

"Did we come at a bad time?" Armando asked tentatively. "If you'd like us to come back later…"

"Oh, no," Terence didn't hesitate to interject. "We made a bargain. You said you'd teach Pinocchio today, so that's the way it will go."

"I was really looking forward to being with you," said Pinocchio, which was true; he needed something to take his mind off things.

"Very well, then," said Armando. "Let us begin."

* * *

They used the kitchen, since that was the most convenient room for them, and Terence said they were free to help themselves to anything if they got hungry. Besides, Armando needed a few examples when teaching Pinocchio arithmetic.

"Do you know your numbers, Pinocchio?" he asked when he and the boy were sitting next to each other at the table. "Can you count?"

"A little," Pinocchio admitted. "I can count all the way up to twenty."

"Do you know how to add and subtract?"

"No."

"Then we'll start out small and simple." Armando selected three pears from the fruit bowl and lined them up carefully in front of Pinocchio. "How many pears do we have right now?"

Pinocchio used his index finger to help himself count. "One…two…three! We have three pears."

"Right. Now, when you add, you put something together with the rest, and then you count what you have in all." Armando added another pear to the line. "How many pears are there, now?"

"One, two, three—four!" Pinocchio smiled.

"So, what do you get with one and three?"

"Four!" said the boy triumphantly.

Armando nodded. "There you have it. That's all there is to adding."

"That's it?" Pinocchio asked.

"That's it," Armando affirmed. "Once you understand it, it's a piece of cake. Let's try something else, shall we?"

He spent the next twenty minutes teaching Pinocchio how to add, using the fruit for demonstration. Another twenty minutes was spent on subtraction, where Pinocchio learned to take things away and figure out what he had left. It took Pinocchio a while to truly grasp the concept, but he caught on soon enough; when he did, he found he enjoyed it immensely. Armando, with the use of some paper, some ink, and a quill he had brought with him, also showed the boy how to count beyond twenty, all the way up to a hundred. Painstakingly, Pinocchio copied out the numbers himself, trying to make them as neat as possible.

Armando smiled. He could tell already that Pinocchio would be a very good student.

After an hour, Armando decided that was enough arithmetic for the time being (though he advised Pinocchio to practice regularly throughout the week), and after taking a short break to get something to eat and drink, they now switched to history. Armando read Pinocchio a few simple history lessons from a book, focusing mainly on medieval history, from the Anglo-Saxon era to the fall of the Byzantine Empire. Pinocchio didn't find history nearly as fun as math, but he liked the way Armando narrated the stories, using plenty of facial expressions and body language, and altering his voice when necessary to make the story seem more dramatic and exciting.

Arietta took over after that. She started off her teaching with art, and she was pleased to see that Pinocchio was already a bit of an artist and knew his colors quite well. This was easily the most enjoyable subject for Pinocchio.

Finally, toward mid-afternoon, they dedicated a final hour to studying music. Of course, Pinocchio knew how to sing, but Arietta taught him more of the basic principles of music; she provided further details about the seven major notes and how they could be combined in any order to create all kinds of melodies. She taught about scales, chords, arpeggios, cadences, the differences between _pianissimo_ and _fortissimo_, and so on.

At last, Arietta and her husband decided that ought to do it for one day, and like all teachers, they assigned Pinocchio some homework before they took their leave.

"You're doing very well, Pinocchio," Arietta said.

"Just keep on doing what you're doing, and you'll make a fine scholar," added Armando.

Pinocchio's heart lifted at their approval. Later, while the boy was sitting at the table, doing his homework while Jiminy supervised him, Terence strolled into the room and announced that he was going for a little walk.

"Where are you going?" Jiminy asked.

"Nowhere special," Terence said abstractedly. "Just around. I need to get out and get some fresh air."

"When will you be back?" asked Pinocchio.

"I'll be back a little before supper. Will you be all right until then?"

"I guess," said Pinocchio, though he felt a twinge of disappointment that Terence didn't mean for him to come along. "I've got homework to finish anyway."

"And I'll stay with Pinoke and keep an eye on him," said Jiminy.

Terence gave a brief nod of satisfaction. He bent down and kissed his son gently on the forehead, took a moment to scratch Duke's ears, and then he was gone.


	10. Chapter 10: Unexpected Reunion

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Wowsers, these last two or three updates have come lightning-fast. Somehow, I knew just what to write. Like I keep on saying, some days are better for writing than others. _

_I'd mentioned earlier that chapter 7 was my most favorite, but now I take that back. This chapter is my all-time favorite. Read on, mates, and you'll see what I mean.  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 10: Unexpected Reunion  
**

Terence took his cloak with him as he went out, for there was a bit of a chill in the air. Though the day was clear and sunny in the morning and most of the afternoon, gray clouds now blanketed the sky, and rain looked likely. Terence didn't mind; the gray clouds suited his mood perfectly.

Ever since Pinocchio had told him about Rhiella, he found himself floundering in a sea of confusion and despair. While Pinocchio was unable to sleep these last few days due to relentless dreams of Fabrizio, his lack of sleep came from relentless dreams of his former love. Even now, he could still see her beautiful face, hear her sweet voice, and unless his nose was deceiving him, he would swear he'd caught the faintest whiff of her perfume.

The idea of Rhiella roaming this country was absurd, bordering on downright preposterous. The odds of that happening were about a million to one.

But if what Pinocchio had said was true, and the girl really was here, what was she doing here?

Where was she now, and how would Terence get her back, assuming that was even possible? Even after all this time, he remembered all too well his last encounter with her; it had not been a pleasant one. He'd never expected to see her again, and he knew he could never love another girl in the same way.

If Rhiella was here, did that mean she still wanted him? But she hadn't been with Pinocchio when he found the boy. Maybe the rift wasn't yet healed, or maybe she was just plain scared. After all, Pinocchio would surely have told her about him, and if Rhiella was anywhere near as shocked to hear of Terence's presence in this country as Terence was to hear of hers, she must have been truly shaken.

So intent was Terence on his thoughts that he paid no attention to where he was walking, and he ended up colliding with someone else. He and the other person simultaneously cried out as they staggered. Terence was able to catch himself in midair, but the other person fell entirely to the ground.

When Terence recovered his balance and got a good look at his companion, he saw it was a woman. She wore a cloak much like his own, only it was rich blue instead of black. As her head was down and her hood was up, it was impossible to tell who she was.

At once Terence dropped to one knee beside her, asking anxiously, "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she answered in a low voice.

"I'm very sorry, miss," he said contritely. "Please forgive me. I—I didn't realize you were there. Are you sure you're all right? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," the mysterious woman said, lifting her head ever so slightly, but not enough for Terence to have a proper view of her face.

"Forgive me," he begged again. "I truly beg your pardon." When the woman would say nothing more, he studied her more closely. "Do I know you? You seem strangely familiar."

Now the woman did lift her head to his, revealing a face of uncommon beauty, the very one that had hunted Terence and haunted him all this time.

"I should hope so," she said.

Terence gasped. His eyes widened to several times their size, and he was quite sure his heart stopped beating on the spot. His face was as white as his hair and goatee.

For a long moment, he couldn't speak. When at last he regained his voice, he could only say in a hushed whisper, "_Rhiella?_"

She drew back her hood, letting it fall to her shoulders. "Yes, Terence," she said, also speaking in a whisper. "It's me."

Terence was sure he must be dreaming. He stared at the beautiful woman before him for another long time, hardly daring to so much as blink.

There were at least a thousand things he wanted to say, but the only logical words that left his tongue were, "By all the stars above!"

"Terence," said Rhiella, her voice thickening, tears pooling up in her green eyes. "Oh, my Terence."

She reached out for him and clung to him, weeping.

That was when the spell broke, and Terence swept his dear love into his arms and hugged her as hard as he could without crushing her to pieces.

"Oh, Rhiella!" he sobbed, tears gushing from him like water that found a leak in a dam. "Oh, my sweet one…_my sweet one!_"

He held her closer, were such a thing possible, and his tears mingled with hers; it was impossible to tell whose tears were whose. He buried his face and hands in her glorious brown mane, while she fondled his own luminous hair and the nape of his neck. Both of them were shaking all over with their sobs, and all rational thought eluded them. The rest of the world seemed to melt away.

It was unknown how long they held onto one another like that, but when they drew apart in the end, Terence promptly locked his lips with Rhiella's in a coveted kiss. The kiss was the nectar of life, and he kissed her again. He did so again, and again, until they were both quite gasping for breath. When he got some hold of himself, he gazed raptly into his beloved's streaming eyes and cried, "Oh, Rhiella, my darling—I just can't believe it's you! I never thought I'd see you again."

Rhiella touched Terence's wet cheek, as if to assure herself that he was made of genuine flesh. He immediately covered her hand with his own and turned his head enough to kiss the inside of her palm.

"How did you get here?" he asked her. "What are you _doing _here?"

"I was looking for you," she said simply.

"Looking for me?" Terence's heart fairly leaped into his throat. "All this time?"

"I must have searched in a thousand places—but I never would have expected to run into you here." Rhiella continued to cup Terence's face; not that she could have removed her hand anyway, since Terence kept it pressed into place. Tears continued to slide steadily down their skin, and their hearts swelled to bursting.

This was like a dream; it surely was too good to be true.

"Oh, my love," Terence choked out at length. "I've missed you so much."

"And I you, my heart."

"You can't even begin to imagine how glad I am to see you, how grateful. This is an answer to my prayers." Kissing her hand once more, Terence entreated, "Swear to me you'll never leave me."

"Only if _you_ swear to never leave _me_."

"I swear it on my life." Terence leaned in closer, until their foreheads touched. He brushed his thumb along Rhiella's jawline with a feather's lightness, making her shiver. "I have so much to tell you," he told her, "so many questions to ask."

"As do I for you."

At that time, an ominous rumble of thunder sounded, and several large, ice-cold drops began to fall.

Terence stood, bringing Rhiella to her feet at the same time. "Come with me," he said. "There's a cottage close by, where I've been staying. We can talk there."

"If you have half as much to tell me as I have to tell you," Rhiella said, shaking her head bemusedly, "we're going to have a _very_ long talk indeed."

Terence smiled, feeling strangely lighter and warmer despite the brisk wind and the icy raindrops that pelted him. "We have all the time in the world, my darling."


	11. Chapter 11: Reacquainted Acquaintances

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Hey and howdy, folks. Don't worry, I'm still alive, as are my stories. School has just resumed again; it's only been two days, and already things are on a roll. You really need to learn to stay on your toes. But I managed to squeeze in some time for a fresh new chapter. Please be sure to send me feedback. As always, reviews keep both me and my stories going.  
_

_By the way, two of my classes are writing classes. While I already know how to write quite well, a little extra education never goes amiss. If you're considering college, take my advice and go for it.  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 11: Reacquainted Acquaintances**

Though the cottage wasn't too far, and though Terence and Rhiella ran the whole way, the rain decided to come down in a sudden cataract, so that by the time the young man and woman reached their destination, they were both soaked through and through. Terence allowed Rhiella to go in first, then he quickly slipped inside himself. After making sure the lock was secure, he sighed and swept his dripping bangs out of his face while Rhiella wrung out her long hair.

"Goodness," Rhiella said, "what a storm."

"It certainly is," Terence replied. He hadn't seen a storm like this since the night he discovered Pinocchio in an abandoned alley.

He must have been gone longer than he'd thought, for Pinocchio ran up to him just then, looking enormously relieved. "Terence!" he cried. "_There _you are!"

With a start, Terence realized it was already a good half-hour past suppertime.

"Oh, Pinocchio, I'm sorry," he never hesitated to say as he knelt before the boy and they hugged, despite how wet he was. "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to forget about you!"

"I was so worried," Pinocchio confessed. "I thought something might have happened to you."

"I'm so sorry." Terence apologized at least six or seven more times before he finally stood up again and Pinocchio noticed Rhiella for the first time.

You can well imagine the boy was considerably surprised to see her, as was she to see him.

Terence could tell right away from their faces and their stunned silence that they were both acquainted with one another. "I see you've met before," he said, with a hint of a smile.

Neither Pinocchio nor Rhiella could speak for some time. When they finally found their tongues, Pinocchio ended up being the one to speak first, and he kept his eyes on his Mary Jane shoes as he said shyly, "Hello, Miss Rhiella."

"Hello, Pinocchio," Rhiella replied softly. "Fancy running into you again."

After another long, awkward silence, Terence suggested, "Why don't you go change out of those wet things, Rhiella? There's a trunk of fresh clothes in the room down the hall and to the left. I'm afraid we don't have any dresses."

He laughed weakly at his own weak joke.

Rhiella just said, "Anything that's dry and comfortable suits me fine." So saying, she disappeared down the hall.

Terence would have very much liked to change himself, but he needed to get supper going, and he figured the clothes would dry soon enough on their own anyway. Quickly, the young man set to work in the kitchen. Since soup was the easiest, fastest thing to make, that was what he threw together. As he imagined Rhiella would be joining them that evening, he made sure to prepare additional food. In no time, the wonderful, mouth-watering aromas of hot soup and fresh bread filled the house.

While Terence was working, Jiminy came to speak to him. The cricket's tone was a trifle sharp as he said, "What in heaven's name kept you, Terence? Poor Pinoke was scared half out of his mind!"

"I'm sorry," said Terence meekly. "I guess I wandered a little farther than I meant to…and I bumped into someone along the way, quite literally."

Jiminy shook his head. "I'm surprised that you, of all people, would leave Pinocchio hanging like that."

"I said I was sorry, Jiminy. You know I would never leave Pinocchio alone on purpose."

"Well, the fact is you_ did_ leave him alone, Terence. Who knows what would have happened to him had I not been with him?"

Terence sighed. "Jiminy, please…I don't want to argue with you. I'm just sorry, okay?"

Jiminy said no more, but he shot one last disapproving glare at Terence before hopping away. When Pinocchio appeared at his side a little later, Terence paused for a moment to ask the boy, "You understand, don't you, Pinocchio?"

"Understand what?" Pinocchio looked at him curiously.

"You understand that I never truly intended to leave you alone today."

"I guess so," was all the child could think of to say, though he wasn't so sure.

"I only went out to get a bit of fresh air, to try to take my mind off things. I wasn't planning to be away for so long. I certainly wasn't planning to run into Rhiella."

"Is it really her, Terence?"

Now Terence smiled as he answered, "Indeed, it is. The one and only."

"She is very beautiful," Pinocchio admitted shyly.

"The most beautiful woman in the whole world," said Terence softly, his voice emanating a special warmth, "in my humble opinion. She is beautiful inside as well as out. I can't believe I've found her again. I simply can't believe it."

"Is she going to stay with us for dinner?"

"Well, at the moment, she's not going anywhere," Terence said, noting the storm blowing outside their window.

Frankly, he was never letting Rhiella out of his sight again—not if it could be helped.

Without being asked, Pinocchio went to retrieve the bowls from the low cupboard, and he made sure to put out an extra bowl, just in case. He was just getting out the cheese while Terence dished up the soup when Rhiella entered the room. The young woman was now dressed in a loose-fitting white shirt, black trousers, and black boots. She had pulled back her hair, which was still considerably damp, and twisted it into an elegant knot.

"Mmm…smells heavenly in here," she remarked, inhaling deeply.

"Would you care to join us, Rhiella?" Terence asked.

"Well, I am quite famished, and that soup does look good. I suppose a bowl or two would be all right."

A few minutes later, they were all seated around the table, Jiminy included. If Rhiella seemed surprised to find a tiny cricket dining with them, she made no comment. Jiminy was visibly stunned at the sight of Rhiella; he gawped at her throughout pretty much the whole meal, and seemed hardly aware of what he was putting into his mouth. Terence also had a hard time settling down to eat. Rhiella, in spite of how hungry she was, could scarcely take her eyes off Terence. Pinocchio was the one to eat the most out of all of them, but even he couldn't stop glancing back and forth between Terence and Rhiella. They made a most beautiful couple, the boy thought.

He didn't know how to feel about that, didn't know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Perhaps it was a bit of both.

Talk between them was scarce that evening, and Terence sensed Rhiella was troubled about something, even though she was undoubtedly as happy to see him as he was to see her. He could see it in the girl's eyes, and he knew her too well to not know when something was bothering her. Rhiella knew Terence was fond of children—she herself had a soft spot for them—but there was something between him and Pinocchio, a bond unlike anything she'd ever seen.

She knew it could only mean one thing, and it was a very disturbing and painful thought.

It wasn't until after Pinocchio had been put to bed and Terence and Rhiella were sitting together in front of the fire in the parlor that they could finally have that long-overdue talk. The rain continued to spatter the windows while the thunder continued to resound, but inside the cottage, they were warm, dry, and perfectly comfortable. "I still can't believe you're actually _here_," Terence told Rhiella after a long moment of silence had passed between them. "Who would have thought we'd meet again here, of all places, after all this time? A part of me is convinced this is a dream…a perfectly glorious dream from which I hope to never awaken."

Rhiella looked at him, her lovely features well defined in the rosy glow from the fire, but she said nothing. Terence was sure he caught a glint of tears in her eyes.

"My love, what is it?" he asked gently, reaching out to stroke her cheek. "Are you all right?"

She drew back before he could touch her.

"Rhiella?"

Softly, almost inaudibly, in a voice of unmistakable pain, Rhiella asked, "Terence…how can this be?"

"How can what be, dearest?"

Now a tear did spill over Rhiella's lid, making a diamond trail down her cheek. "Don't pretend!" she burst out. "You know perfectly well what I'm talking about, Terence!"

"Rhiella—" he started again, but she cut him off, giving voice to the question that had tugged, teased, and tormented her all along.

"How is it that you have a son?"


	12. Chapter 12: Terence's Story

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Believe it or not, here is yet another update for you lovely readers. I'm as amazed as you are, yet I confess it's really nice to write something that does not take up a whole year. And it feels marvelous to include Rhiella in the mix; bear in mind, though, that this is in no way related to my original story; the real story goes a bit differently. This is what you might call an "alternate universe". Even so, this was most gratifying to write. I gave myself some very pleasant chills.  
_

_Now I can't decide which chapter is my most favorite: chapter 7, chapter 10, or this one. Read on, friends!  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 12: Terence's Story  
**

Realizing Rhiella was referring to Pinocchio, Terence said softly and gently, "Rhiella, you don't understand. Pinocchio is not my son…not in the way you think."

She knitted her elegant brows at him. "What are you talking about?"

Terence closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and let it out very slowly before he answered. "I need to tell you a story. It's a rather long one."

The girl gave out a short, humorless laugh. "Well, I'm certainly not going anywhere in a hurry," she said, "even if I wanted to, with the weather as murderous as it is. So, now is as good a time as any for such a story."

"Bear in mind that this is not a particularly happy story," said Terence solemnly, "nor one that I am particularly eager to tell."

"I'm all ears."

Hoping Pinocchio would forgive him for sharing this intimate secret with someone else, Terence began, "Just a few months ago, when I was fairly new to this country myself, my path led me to Pinocchio…only he wasn't a boy at that time."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Rhiella incredulously. "If he wasn't a boy, what else could he have possibly been?"

"When I first met him, he was in the form of a wooden puppet. You know, one of those fancy marionette things, only without the strings."

At this, Rhiella rolled her eyes at the ceiling and scoffed, "Oh, come _on,_ Terence! The last thing I need right now is a fairy tale."

"It's no fairy tale, Rhiella," Terence said mildly. "It's the truth."

"But Pinocchio as a _puppet?_ One that could talk and move about freely?" Rhiella shook her head in disbelief. "I've never heard of such a preposterous thing in my life!"

"As absurd as it sounds, it's true. I swear it on my life, Rhiella. You can even ask Pinocchio himself."

Waving her hand slightly, Rhiella said, "Anyway, get to the point. You said you met up with Pinocchio."

"It was on a wild and stormy night, very much like tonight. I found Pinocchio in an alley—cold, wet, frightened, hungry, and totally alone. I did not know who he was, where he came from, or what happened to him, but my whole heart went out to him. Though he was a puppet, I sensed a true heart in him. Though we were strangers to each other, I couldn't bring myself to leave him there. So I picked him up and took him with me to an inn to get dry, and get something to eat…"

For the next hour or so, Terence relayed the whole story to Rhiella, sparing none of the details.

He told her of how Pinocchio's real father had passed away, and how Pinocchio had had nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to. He told of Fabrizio and the circus, of the kidnapping, and what he went through to rescue the boy. He choked up when he reached the part of Fabrizio's death and Pinocchio's temporary death; almost without realizing it, tears welled up in Rhiella's eyes as well and her own throat tightened painfully.

"If Pinocchio died that night," she cut in, "how is it that he's alive today?"

Now Terence told her of the Blue Fairy—admitting he didn't know any more about her than Rhiella did—and how she'd had mercy on Pinocchio and restored him to life, making him a real boy in the process. "Whether this Fairy is true or not," he said, "I cannot say. All I truly know is that Pinocchio's revival was nothing less of a miracle. It was at the same time the best and the worst night of my entire life."

When he was finally done, Rhiella sat motionless for a long time, at a loss of what to say or what to think.

A part of her wanted, needed to believe it was a lie. Yet she knew by the look on Terence's face and the tears that trembled in his eyes that he spoke the truth.

"So now Pinocchio lives with me," Terence said softly, breaking the uncanny silence, "as my adopted son. Sometimes he is like my son, other times he's more like my brother. Above all, he is my best friend. I cannot say what it is about him that makes him stand out from other children, yet he has become very dear to my heart, and I could not love him more than if he and I shared the same blood."

"So, that's the way it is," Rhiella whispered. "Another woman has not replaced me in your affections, then." Warm relief flooded her, while at the same time a sharp pang of guilt and shame stabbed her heart.

Now Terence placed his hand tenderly on her cheek, and she let him do so this time. Half-consciously, her hand rose to cover his. Gazing directly into her emerald eyes, the firelight reflecting off his own tears, Terence told her solemnly, "You're the only woman for me, Rhiella. You're a priceless treasure that nothing, absolutely _nothing_ can replace. Losing you was like losing a piece of my own heart, a piece of my very being. I thought about you every day since the day we parted…and I would have traded everything to get you back. I never would have believed such pain could exist; only my pain at Pinocchio's death could have compared."

The tears overflowed and spilled down Rhiella's cheeks in a steady flood. "Oh, Terence," was all she could say before her emotions got the better of her.

She didn't hesitate to fling herself into Terence's arms, which readily engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug. She felt him lift her onto his lap, cradle her to his breast as if to shield her from the rest of the world. She did not resist.

Terence made no effort to retain his own tears as he held onto his love for dear life; they slid all the way to his jawline and landed in Rhiella's hair, but she neither noticed nor cared.

The boy kissed the crown of the girl's head a number of times, until she finally pulled his face down to hers so they could kiss properly on the lips. They kissed long and deep, heedless of the tears that were leaking in. They kissed until they were both gasping for breath; even after the kissing had stopped, they kept their foreheads pressed together, Terence's silvery white hair mingling with Rhiella's rich brown hair.

"I love you, Rhiella," was all Terence could say between sobs. "I love you so much."

Rhiella smiled, despite the tears that continued to flow.

"What you did for Pinocchio," she whispered at length, lifting her own hand to stroke her beloved's tear-drenched face, "was the most generous, the most beautiful, the very noblest thing I ever heard in all my life."


	13. Chapter 13: Healing Hearts

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Welcome back, readers! Here is the next chapter; it's shorter than I wanted it to be, but it's very sweet. I don't know about the rest of you, but I can't watch "Pinocchio" anymore, not without these stories coming to mind.  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 13: Healing Hearts  
**

Terence and Rhiella talked well into the night, staying as close to each other as possible the whole time. They shed so many tears it soon seemed their eyes would never be dry again. When at last their tears did run dry, when they'd run out of things to talk about, Terence just held Rhiella quietly in his arms until she drifted off to sleep. Still keeping a firm yet gentle hold on her, he arose to his feet. He carried her to his room and tenderly laid her down on his own bed, covering her with an extra blanket, just to be sure she would be good and warm. He gently brushed away a stray tendril of hair from her face before he left her in peace.

When he passed by Pinocchio's room, he paused briefly to check on the boy. Outside, the storm still raged; the water poured down Pinocchio's windowpane in steady sheets, while lightning continued to flicker and thunder continued to grumble. Pinocchio was snuggled deeply under his quilts, and as his eyes were closed, it was impossible to tell if he was truly asleep, or what he was dreaming. Terence prayed he wasn't having that awful dream again.

It seemed to the youth that Pinocchio had dreamt a lot about Fabrizio lately—more so than he had before. Had Fabrizio's spirit truly returned to haunt him, or could this all be of the boy's own making? Terence knew Pinocchio was still quite shaken from what transpired at the circus, as he well had a right to be; he himself had yet to fully recover from that experience. Sometimes he could hardly believe Pinocchio was even alive.

Yet a part of Terence wondered if there was more to the dreams than just the reliving of a horrific memory. Could it be…was it possible Pinocchio blamed himself for Fabrizio's death, just as he once blamed himself for Geppetto's death?

Surely the boy knew as well as anyone else that it was an accident. Perhaps he knew it in his head, but in his heart—that may be a wholly different matter.

Terence sighed and shook his head. If only there were some way he could shield Pinocchio from all of this; he'd already been through far too much for a child of his age. All in the space of a few months, he lost his father along with the only home he had ever known, undergone kidnapping and abuse, and experienced death itself. Terence had had his share of troubles, but he felt Pinocchio had gone through enough trouble to last a lifetime.

Edging in a little closer to the bed, the white-haired youth knelt and took one of Pinocchio's tiny hands in both of his. As he'd said to Rhiella, he didn't know what it was about Pinocchio that made him so special, didn't know how they managed to get along so well. Maybe part of the reason was that they were both young. At this thought, Terence couldn't repress a slight smile. _Well, "young" isn't exactly the best word to describe me. _

It was true. Although Terence maintained the semblance of a youthful man, he was far much older than Pinocchio, Jiminy, Rhiella, and everyone else realized. In fact, he was practically old enough to be Geppetto's grandfather, maybe even his great-grandfather. Terence wondered how the others would react if they'd found out his true age, or better yet, if they knew what he truly was. The idea made him ill at ease.

Well, it made no difference.

He and Pinocchio were family now; maybe not in the conventional sense, but a family nonetheless. Pinocchio was his as much as he was Geppetto's.

Now Rhiella had come into the picture. At that moment, Terence didn't know where she fit, but surely there had to be some place. They could certainly use a woman around here, for a change. Terence hoped Rhiella would have no objections; if she came all this way just to seek him out, that must be a sign that she wanted him back. But how would she feel about having Pinocchio as part of the parcel?

Better yet, how would Pinocchio feel about it?


	14. Chapter 14: Misgivings

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Another lovely chapter for my lovely readers. It's longer than the last one, but still notoriously short. Oh, well, quality takes precedence over quantity. I know in my case, I would much rather read a short, well-written story than a long, poorly-written one.  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 14: Misgivings  
**

It was still raining the following morning. Although there wasn't nearly so much thunder and lightning anymore, water continued to pour down steadily.

Rhiella awoke early; she was considerably surprised to find herself in a bed in her clothes, to realize that she had even dozed off to begin with. Upon realizing she was in Terence's bed, she was wide-awake in an instant and she jerked upright with a sharp gasp. When she looked to the other side of the bed and found it empty, with the other half of the sheets and blankets unruffled, she let out her breath in immense relief.

She also felt a touch of regret, though she wouldn't have admitted it to anyone.

Well, she figured, now that she was awake, she might as well get up.

Slowly, the young woman pushed back the covers and stood on her feet, feeling oddly sore and stiff. With her princess-like gait, she entered the narrow hall and followed it to the parlor, where she found Terence camped out on a small couch at the far end with a blanket spread over him. In the hearth, the fire had mostly died out; only a few meager embers remained. Rhiella caught her breath at the sight of Terence. Somehow, she had expected their reunion to be only her imagination—and she surely would have died had that been the case. Yet this proved beyond a doubt that it was true after all. Waves of elation swept through Rhiella, and the sigh she let out was nearly a sob.

She might have even dissolved into tears, had she not shed so many the previous night.

Terence appeared to still be sleeping soundly, for his eyes remained closed and he lay as still as a stone.

Rhiella began to approach him cautiously. Though she did her best to move slowly and lightly, the wooden floor beneath her feet creaked in more than one spot, but Terence never stirred.

When she finally reached him, Rhiella settled onto the floor next to the couch. She sat there, silent and catlike, for a long time, just drinking in the beautiful sight before her. At length, she touched Terence's face with one hand, tracing his familiar features and smoothing away the strands of white hair. She savored the feel of his warm skin, of his silky-soft hair and stubble. She allowed her fingers to run all the way down his angular jawline, and she half-consciously twined them in his long, thick beard. As she regarded his lips, she found herself leaning over and brushing them with her own. Knowing how long it had been since she'd kissed those glorious lips, she did so again, then again. She felt her whole being fill with a sweet ache: a mix of love and longing, of joy and sorrow, of rapture and regret.

Oh, how she had missed Terence. She'd hardly expected to see him again, though there was always that thread of hope that she clung to steadfastly.

When she found out that he had a child in his care, it nearly shattered her at first; the very thought of Terence fathering a child with another woman was more than she could bear. Now she was awestruck at the love Terence held for Pinocchio, how dedicated he was to the boy. She found the boy most intriguing, from the moment she stumbled across him in the village, and though she couldn't explain it, she could see clearly how he had won Terence's heart.

But now what were they to do? Rhiella couldn't leave this place without Terence, yet she knew Terence couldn't leave Pinocchio.

Of course, she didn't have the heart to separate them; that would be nothing short of plain cruel, especially after hearing about what happened to Pinocchio's father.

Still, how was this going to work for all of them?

A hushed sigh sounded from Terence just then. The young man's eyes slowly opened, and when he looked up and saw his beloved Rhiella hovering over him, she only smiled, as did he.

"This is a dream," he said, his voice but a whisper. "It has to be."

"Then it is a good dream," she gently whispered back.

Her hand continued to rest against his face, and as he had done the day before, Terence clasped her hand and kissed it tenderly. Presently, he sat upright, causing his blanket to spill into his lap. Rhiella saw that, like her, he had slept in his clothes. Terence made her join him on the couch, and she readily snuggled into his arms once more. He embraced her warmly and kissed the top of her head.

They stayed that way for a good hour or so until Pinocchio wandered into the room, looking slightly bedraggled. He seemed startled to discover Terence and Rhiella huddled together on the couch, but he said nothing.

"Hello, son," Terence greeted him, easing his hold on Rhiella a little. "Did you sleep all right?"

"I guess so," was all Pinocchio would say.

"Don't mind me," said Rhiella, seeing the way Pinocchio was eyeing her dubiously. "We're just keeping each other company, is all."

Pinocchio didn't look like he believed it, but again, he said nothing.

Ultimately, Terence was the first to rise to his feet. "Now that we're all awake," he said, stretching his limbs, "who's up for a spot of breakfast? I know I'm hungry."

"So am I," Rhiella admitted, realizing only just now how ravenous she was.

Pinocchio said nothing, but he followed Terence and Rhiella into the kitchen, although the boy made sure to keep his distance, especially from Rhiella.

Later, when they were seated at the table, Pinocchio avoided speaking to anyone and kept his attention mostly on his food.

At one point, Duke and Figaro trotted up to them, and Duke put his front paws right on the table and sniffed the plate of sausages enthusiastically. "Hey, get down!" Terence said, never hesitating to push the dog back to the floor. "You know what I told you about having your paws on the table, Duke. How many times must I tell you?" Seeing the entreating look on Duke's face, he relented and passed him one of the sausages. "Oh, okay…but just one."

Duke promptly snatched the sausage away and gulped it down in less time than it takes to blink.

When Figaro meowed in protest, Terence sighed, but he gave the cat a bit of sausage, too, muttering as he did so, "I swear, Figaro, I'm starting to think you're Duke's second shadow."

Rhiella laughed. "Isn't that cute?" she remarked as she regarded the animals.

"Well, don't let their 'cuteness' fool you," Terence informed her. "They can be a handful." Noticing how Pinocchio was unusually quiet and wasn't eating much, he asked softly, "You all right, Pinocchio?"

"Hmm?" Pinocchio glanced up briefly at him before dropping his gaze once more. "Oh…yeah, I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

Pushing his plate away, Pinocchio only said, "Guess I'm just not very hungry. May I be excused?"

Terence hesitated for just a moment, then answered, "Yes, of course. Would you like me to fix you something a little later?"

"No thanks, Terence. That'll be all right."

Before either Terence or Rhiella could say another word, Pinocchio had already gone from the room.


	15. Chapter 15: Hope and Despair

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Hello, people! I've got a new chapter for you, one that's decent-sized. It's incredibly sweet, but also sad, especially in the latter half. I try to maintain a balance between sweetness and sadness. Don't forget to review!  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 15: Hope and Despair  
**

"Is he all right?" Rhiella asked when Pinocchio was out of sight. She could tell as easily as Terence could that something was bothering the boy.

Terence shook his head. "I don't know," he said softly, looking and sounding troubled. "He's certainly acting very strange." At length, he added, "I suppose we should just leave him alone for a while."

Turning to Jiminy, Rhiella asked, "And may I ask who you are?"

Jiminy, who was still awestruck at the sight of her, was momentarily tongue-tied, so Terence answered for him. "This is Jiminy; Jiminy Cricket, to be precise. He's Pinocchio's conscience."

"_What?_" Rhiella's brows knit in an expression of complete incredulity.

"Well…in a manner of speaking," Terence said with a chuckle. "He's as much of a part of the household as Pinocchio and the animals."

Rhiella wasn't sure of whether to believe that part of a cricket acting as a child's voice of right and wrong, but she said politely, "Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Jiminy."

Jiminy's small face flushed a notorious shade of red. "Oh, gee…the miss is all mine, pleasure," he managed to say, blundering his words.

"Jiminy, are you feeling all right?" Terence asked.

"Oh, sure, Terence. Never been life in my whole better." Turning to the food, Jiminy went on distractedly, "Boy, this is a sensational cook; my gosh, but you're a good breakfast."

Terence shook his head again, unable to repress a slight smile. He sensed someone had a bit of a crush.

At length, Rhiella said, somewhat hesitantly, "Terence?"

"What?"

"I…I'm sorry."

"What for?" he asked, surprised at the statement.

Bowing her head, she answered humbly, "For all that went wrong between us."

"Oh, no, Rhiella…"

"It's true," she cut him off. "I nearly spoiled everything for us both."

"Oh, _no_," Terence interjected, reaching across the table and taking both her hands in his. "You've no need to feel sorry, dearest. The fault is entirely mine. I should never have done what I'd done."

"It was just as much my fault." Rhiella's voice caught. "If I'd lost you forever…" Here, she faltered for a long time before she could finish. "I could never have borne it."

"Oh, Rhiella," said Terence solicitously, now rising to his feet and moving around to her side. He sank to his knees on the floor before her, as one imploring for mercy.

Just when Rhiella had thought she was all cried out, new tears limned her eyes and her voice broke as she besought him, "Forgive me, Terence."

Terence folded her hands into his own once more, and when she found the courage to look into his eyes, they were so tender and so profound she thought she might drown in them. Neither spoke for some time. When at last Terence did speak, he whispered gently, "I'll tell you what, love; let's make a pact. I will forgive you, if you will forgive me."

Rhiella smiled, despite the tears that had begun to roll down her cheeks. "Very well," she agreed. "That sounds fair enough."

"Fair enough," Terence echoed. Although his voice was calm, his eyes also overflowed with moisture.

He lifted her hands to his face and covered them with tears as well as innumerable kisses. Then, edging in just a little closer, he lowered his head into the woman's lap, facedown. Rhiella sat very still and let him do this. Idly, she threaded her fingers through his gleaming hair and caressed the back of his neck. Terence shivered at her touch, but he never looked up, or shifted from that spot.

The two of them stayed like that for a long time, both remaining silent that entire time; this was one of those cases in which words were unnecessary.

For now, it satisfied their hearts just to be together, to feel one another's presence.

It was enough.

* * *

Meantime, in his room, Pinocchio sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, his emotions in a confused jumble. He found himself keenly envious of Rhiella, which surprised him as well as shamed him.

He didn't know why he should feel this way, but there was no denying it. He had seen Terence and Rhiella for himself; it didn't take a genius to know they were crazy about each other. What would happen now? Now that Terence had someone else in his life, now that he was engaged in another relationship, would that diminish the relationship he and Pinocchio shared?

It used to be just the two of them for the longest time, but things had changed, and Pinocchio had a sinking feeling they would never be as they were before.

The boy sighed deeply into his palms. No sooner had he begun to adjust to his new life than something came along to radically alter it again.

He wished Geppetto were there to comfort him, to give him advice. Looking up, Pinocchio softly asked the empty air, "Father…what can I do? What am I supposed to do? Why does it have to be this way? Why can't things just stay as they are? Please tell me." He waited for a long time, hoping against hope that his father would somehow come to him.

But nothing happened.

There was only silence, silence penetrated by the quiet sounds of the rain against his window.

With a dejected sigh, Pinocchio flopped back on his bed, so that he faced the ceiling. At length, he reached for Terry and pulled the little bear closer. Gazing into the doll's big black button eyes, he whispered, "You have it easy, Terry. You never have to worry about anything." He hugged the bear, taking comfort in the feel of the light, squishy body and fluffy fur.

There was no way of knowing how long he lay there like that, but presently, the child's mind began to float away, and he found himself slipping unavoidably into sleep.

Before he was quite out of it, a familiar dream had already begun to reawaken…


	16. Chapter 16: Relentless Memories

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Guess who? Me, that's who! I got a nice new chapter for you to feast your eyes on! (Speaking of feasts, I'm still feeling rather full from last night's Thanksgiving banquet. I probably shouldn't have eaten so much, but can I help it if everything tastes so darn good?) Anyway, here you go, mates. This chapter was trickier to write than I'd expected, but time and diligence has paid off. _

_I'm surprised there haven't been more reviews lately. Yes, I know I can't force people to review, but feedback is invaluable to a writer and a writer's work.  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 16: Relentless Memories**

In Pinocchio's dream, he was at the circus once more. He was dressed in a colorful jumpsuit with large red pompoms down the front; he also wore a silly cap topped with a red pompom, and he had a red artificial nose fixed over his own. He stood before an enormous crowd; countless faces of men, women, and children surrounded him on every side. Lively music was playing, and a voice that came from nowhere and everywhere was saying: "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, INTRODUCING THE WORLD'S ONE AND ONLY MARIONETTE CLOWN—_PINOCCHIO!_" Then Pinocchio, either by love or by force, was compelled to sing and caper about to the public's delight.

His performances grew increasingly intense, while the crowd egged him on and Fabrizio cracked his whip at the boy and shouted gross obscenities at him at the top of his voice.

The dream shifted. Now Pinocchio found himself on the high wire once again. Fabrizio hovered over him, his chalky face, half-sheathed in shadow, looking almost demonic.

"You killed me, boy," Fabrizio hissed, his eyes blazing in spite of the shadows. "Now you shall die, too!"

Then the wire broke, and Pinocchio was falling through the air like a stone dropped into water—

There was a piercing cry, followed by a dreadful crash.

Terence and Rhiella both jumped at the unexpected noise; Jiminy was jarred back to reality in an instant. "What was that?" the cricket exclaimed, his eyes no less than three times their size.

Duke's ears flew straight up, while Figaro ran and hid behind the collie. Even Cleo looked startled.

"What just happened?" Rhiella gasped, hand over her heart.

Knowing there was only one source for that noise, Terence was on his feet in a flash. He sprinted out of the room with Duke hot at his heels. Rhiella hesitated for only a second before she jumped up as well and followed.

Terence burst into Pinocchio's room to find him lying on the floor, between his bed and his bureau, which had toppled sideways. Gasping in horror at the sight, Terence rushed swiftly to the boy's side. "_Pinocchio!_" he cried as he threw himself to his knees. Pinocchio, who'd received a rather stunning blow, was vaguely aware of the young man scooping his head into his lap. "Pinocchio!" Terence repeated. "Pinocchio—speak to me!"

A pained groan was the only answer he got.

He felt the child all over, and discovered a nasty bump on one side of his head, which was swelling rapidly; already, it was the size of a small egg.

Meantime, Duke went to join Terence, where he bent his own head and began licking Pinocchio's face tenderly.

When Rhiella appeared in the doorway and saw the scene for herself, she too drew in a sharp breath. "Good heavens, what happened here?"

"Rhiella," said Terence, "get a basin of cold water and some clean rags. You'll find them in the kitchen. Meet me in the parlor."

Rhiella didn't need telling twice; she had already turned around the moment Terence told her where she could find the supplies.

Very gently, Terence lifted Pinocchio into his arms and carried him out of the room, while Duke obligingly picked up one of the pillows with his teeth before trailing after them. In the parlor, Terence set Pinocchio on the couch and covered the boy with his own blanket. When Duke presented Terence with the pillow, the young man patted the dog in thanks before he tucked the pillow behind Pinocchio's head. In another minute, Rhiella came in with the basin and the rags. She placed them on a little table near the couch. On his knees once more, Terence soaked one of the rags in the cool water, wrung it out, and delicately dabbed at Pinocchio's injury.

At length, Jiminy leaped onto one of the couch's arms. His heart twisted at the sight of Pinocchio in this state. "Is he all right?" he asked Terence.

"I'm not sure," Terence said. "He's hit his head pretty badly." He showed Jiminy the bump, and the cricket whistled sympathetically.

"Ouch…that's got to hurt. I imagine that'll leave Pinoke with one heck of a headache."

Duke placed one forepaw on top of the blanket while he watched Terence tend to Pinocchio. Rhiella stood by and watched, too; once again, she was impressed and humbled at the tenderness Terence showed the child.

When Pinocchio began to recover somewhat, when he was more aware of what was going on, he peered up at Terence, still in a bit of a daze. "Terence?"

Terence, who was still sponging his face, answered softly, "Yes, it's me."

"How are you feeling, son?" Jiminy asked.

"My head hurts."

"We don't blame you for that," said Rhiella. "You're lucky you didn't split your head open."

"Just lie quietly," Terence said. "We're here for you, son. Everything's going to be okay."

Duke licked Pinocchio's cheek one more time, while Figaro leaped onto the couch and curled up at the boy's side. These, along with Terence's light touch, soothed Pinocchio a great deal.

While the boy rested on the couch with the animals, with a fresh rag acting as a compress, Terence sat a little off to the side in one of the chairs. Rhiella pulled up a chair herself and sat with him.

Seeing Terence's distress, she placed a hand on his forearm and told him, "Don't worry, Terence. I'm sure Pinocchio will be all right."

Terence didn't seem mollified. "I can't stand it, Rhiella."

"Can't stand what?"

"To see Pinocchio hurt like this. Every time he gets hurt, it hurts me just as much, if not more."

"Well, not to sound insensitive, dear heart, but there is no way you can totally shield him from pain. No one is exempt from it."

Terence sighed. "I know that. I just feel Pinocchio has been dealt too much pain already. No one should have to go through what he's gone through, least of all a child."

Recalling the stories she had heard the night before, Rhiella said, "He has been through a lot, hasn't he?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"More than any child deserves," said Terence. Closing his eyes, sighing again, he leaned forward and sank his forehead into his hands.

"Tell me more about this Fabrizio," said Rhiella at length. "You don't have to if you don't want to, but I am curious."

The mention of Fabrizio made Terence lift his face to her again, but it was a long time before he spoke.

"Fabrizio was what you might call two-faced. On the surface, he seemed a decent enough fellow…but inside, he was a psychopath, officially insane. He was the sort of person who always got what he wanted, and he was not above hurting, even killing those who were in his way. He tried to kill me just because I stood between him and Pinocchio. It still gives me chills to think of how close I came to losing my life at his hands…and how I lost Pinocchio."

"You're certain Pinocchio died that night?"

"I'm positive. He took a fall from which no one could have survived. Fabrizio certainly didn't, and had I not been already holding onto the wire as one end broke loose, I would have suffered the same fate."

Rhiella shivered. "How dreadful that must have been!"

"It still haunts me to this day," said Terence grimly. "Even though Pinocchio is all right now, I will never forget the sight of his little body on the ground, or the agony that tore at me. It's a memory I'll take to my grave."

Rhiella was at a loss of what to say after that, other than, "You must have sincerely loved him for it to affect you so."

Terence said no more, but in another minute he buried his face completely in his hands, though not before Rhiella caught a hint of tears. She saw his shoulders begin to shake as quiet, unrestrained sobs poured out of him.

Impossible as it was, Rhiella wished there was something she could do to take away the pain, to eradicate the ghastly memories. She did the only thing she could do, and slid her arms around Terence's trembling shoulders, as far as they could reach, and held him. She never said anything, asked no further questions. She just stroked him, kissed him, and allowed him to weep for as long as he needed to.

She recalled all the times he soothed her like this when she was upset; now it was her turn to do so for him.


	17. Chapter 17: Serious Talk

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Some have expressed concern that I've given up this story. I assure you I have not. It was a matter of figuring out the next chapter, that's all. It's one thing to know what to write; knowing how to write it is (pardon the pun) another story. _

_Anyone who thinks writing is easy, I would love to see them try. Well, here you go, friends, and I hope it's sufficient reward for keeping you waiting.  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 17: Serious Talk  
**

Arietta and Armando arrived at the cottage in the early afternoon, just as the rain was beginning to abate at last. This time, Terence was the one to greet them at the door. "Sorry we're late, Terence," said Arietta as soon as they were inside.

"The weather set us back a bit," said Armando, throwing back his hood and sweeping his dark, somewhat damp hair out of his eyes.

"That's all right," Terence answered. "The important thing is you're here now. Here, let me take those for you." He took his companions' cloaks and hung them on the wall next to the door, while Armando rubbed his hands together and breathed on them. Seeing this, Terence suggested, "Why don't you two take a minute to warm up by the fire, before you do anything else?"

They both smiled, touched at the kind gesture. "Thank you," said Arietta.

"That would be really nice," Armando said. "It's a wee bit nippy outside, as you can guess."

In the parlor, the fire had been stoked once more, and it was large and bright enough to the point where Arietta and Armando felt warm and snug in no time at all.

"Ah," Armando sighed, holding his hands as close to the flames as possible without getting burned. "Now_ this_ is what I call living the good life."

"Indeed," said Arietta as she held out her hands as well. "Terence is so sweet and thoughtful. I'm loving this job already. I would do this even if we weren't getting a penny for it."

"It's a far cry from our last job, that's for sure," her husband replied.

Neither of them noticed, at least right away, that Rhiella was in the same room at that same time. When they did see her, they were startled at first, but only for a moment. Even in her modest attire, the young woman's beauty was definite, her queenly grace unmistakable. The sight of her made Armando's eyes widen, and his jaw almost hit the floor. Even Arietta had to admire her. "Hello," Rhiella told them, offering a friendly smile.

"Who are you, miss?" Arietta asked.

Right at that moment, Terence came into the room. Smiling himself, he said grandly, "Armando, Arietta, there's someone very special I'd like you to meet. This is Rhiella."

"Pleased to meet you all," Rhiella said with a small curtsy.

Armando stared at the girl for another minute before he turned to Terence and asked in a low, stunned voice, "You mean, this is _the_ Rhiella?"

Terence nodded. "The one true love of my life."

Remembering her manners, Arietta made a little curtsy as well. "Hello, Rhiella. It is truly a pleasure to meet you."

"So, you're Arietta," Rhiella said, regarding the other girl thoughtfully. When Arietta and Armando looked at her in surprise, she said, "Terence told me all about you. I understand you're old friends of Pinocchio, as well as his teachers."

"That is correct, madam," Armando said when he found his tongue again. "At least, we're his teachers, more or less. It's part of a bargain we made the other day with Terence."

"I see. Well, I'm sure you do a fine job."

"We do our best, at any rate," Arietta said. From the corner of her eye, she saw Pinocchio coming in, too. Her face brightened. "Ah, there's our star pupil now!"

"Hey, there, sport," said Armando. "Ready for day two of your lessons?"

"I guess so," the boy replied, ambivalently avoiding looking at Rhiella and Terence.

"I'm afraid the kitchen hasn't been quite tidied up yet," said Terence. "Would you mind doing your lessons in here? You can use that little table over there."

"That will be just fine," said Armando. "I'd rather do this by the warm glow of the fire, anyway."

"If you need anything, send the word," Terence said as he headed out of the room, with Rhiella following close behind. "Good luck with your studies, Pinocchio."

Pinocchio had already brought his homework with him, so Armando and Arietta just pulled their books out of their bags and stacked them together at one end of the table. As soon as the threesome were comfortably seated, Armando said, "Okay, let's have a look at those papers—" He stopped short when he noticed the ugly, discolored bump on Pinocchio's temple for the first time. Arietta saw it, too, and gasped.

"My goodness, Pinocchio," Armando said, "what happened to you?"

Looking down, as if in embarrassment, Pinocchio said softly, "I—I had a little accident this morning."

Armando and Arietta both winced. "Ooooh…looks like you took quite a wallop there," Armando said.

Pinocchio started to nod, then thought better of it. "I sure did."

"Are you all right?" Arietta asked. "Does it hurt very much?"

"Yes, it does, especially when I touch it."

"Well, then, we'll go easy on you today," said Armando. "Let us know if your head hurts too much."

Pinocchio handed his papers over, and Armando began to leaf through them one by one while Arietta watched over his shoulder. "Hmmm," Armando murmured as they surveyed Pinocchio's words and numbers. "Not bad. Not bad at all."

"You've got a remarkably steady hand, Pinocchio," Arietta noted.

Armando read over Pinocchio's arithmetic problems. "One and two is three…two and two is four…five and two is seven…excellent! Well done, Pinoke. I can tell you're getting the hang of this already. I daresay you're a budding mathematician."

"A what?"

"Someone who's very good at math," Arietta explained. "I'm impressed with how well you do in art, too. You're a real artist."

Pinocchio smiled, but it was a halfhearted smile. He would have appreciated the praise much more if his head wasn't hurting so badly, and if there weren't other things weighing so heavily on his mind and heart. They proceeded with their lessons as they had the day before, but Pinocchio only half-listened to what his tutors were saying, and he didn't say much as he did his work.

Then, while Armando was reading about the Ninth Crusade, the boy at last spoke of his own accord. "Armando?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Certainly. What's this 'something' about?" Armando marked his book before he closed it and set it aside. He leaned across the table a little, to show Pinocchio had his undivided attention. Arietta was listening intently, too.

Pinocchio would have wanted very much to talk to Armando and Arietta about Rhiella and Terence, and how he felt about it, but he wasn't sure how to put it into proper words. He didn't see how his friends would understand, anyway. Still, there was something else they could talk about—something Armando and Arietta could personally relate to.

"Well," said the boy, winding the end of his trousers around his little fingers, as he often did when he was nervous, "it's about Fabrizio."

At the mention of the name, Armando's posture stiffened, as did Arietta's. It surprised them that Pinocchio, of all people, would give voice to that name. "What about him?" Armando asked after a long, tense moment.

"Well," Pinocchio said a second time, "I've just been wondering…how did you deal with it?"

"Deal with it?" Arietta repeated.

"Didn't it ever bother you that the man you used to work for was…d-dead?" Pinocchio nearly choked on that last word. "I mean, how did you get over it? What did you do about it?"

Neither Armando nor Arietta spoke for a good while.

Arietta looked away, her face troubled, while Armando covered his face with one hand. He shook his head several times before he dragged his hand to his chin and opened his eyes. When at last he spoke, he said in a soft, uncharacteristically serious voice, "You're right, Pinocchio. Fabrizio's death did bother us, more so than you can imagine. Still does to this day, as a matter of fact. Much as we detested that man, we never expected him to die, least of all in that fashion."

"What do you do?" Pinocchio asked. "How do you bear it?"

"We just take it one day at a time," said Arietta. "We get on with our lives, do the best we can. We engage in worthwhile activities. Armando helps me, and I help him."

"Didn't you feel like you were to blame for his death, at least in some way?"

"No," said Armando. "Such a thought never once crossed my mind, to tell you the truth." Then he realized what the child was getting at. "Oh, Pinocchio—surely you don't blame yourself?"

Pinocchio's face was bright red, and it wasn't due to the firelight, either. Though he didn't say anything, Armando and Arietta knew straight off.

"Oh, _Pinocchio_," said Arietta solicitously, never hesitating to scoot closer to him and put her arms around him. "Surely you know it was an accident."

Bowing his head, Pinocchio murmured, "I know it was an accident. But I still feel that Fabrizio might still be alive, had it not been for me. After all, I was the one who lured him onto that wire in the first place."

"You had no way of knowing what would happen," said Armando. "It's not as though you deliberately intended to harm him."

"No, but it happened all the same."

"That's how it is much of the time, my young friend. Sometimes what happens just…happens."

"You mustn't blame yourself," Arietta said as she smoothed back his hair. "You've got nothing to feel guilty or ashamed about."

When Pinocchio peered up into her face again, he quavered, "But I _see_ him, Arietta. I'm always seeing his face, hearing his voice, as if he were really there. I can hardly sleep at night, can hardly close my eyes, knowing he'll be there—and he'll say—he'll say—" Arietta placed a gentle finger over his lips to shush him, and then she held him quietly for the next little while, like she used to do at the circus.

While Pinocchio didn't quite break down and bawl, he did shed a few tears, and he made a sort of whimper, like a frightened kitten.

"You poor kid," said Armando, shaking his head very sadly and sympathetically.

"Does Terence know you're feeling this way?" Arietta asked after a time. "Have you talked to him about this?"

"He knows I've been having a lot of bad dreams lately," said Pinocchio when he found his voice again. "He knows what's going on."

"But have you actually _talked _with him?" asked Armando. "I mean, have you two ever sat down together and had a serious discussion about this?"

Pinocchio thought about it for a minute before he confessed, "N-not really."

"Well, perhaps that's just what you need," Armando said. "I have a hunch that keeping all of this stuffed down inside is part of your problem, Pinoke."

"It sounds like you and Terence haven't truly taken the time to deal with this," said Arietta very gently.

"We've dealt with it," Pinocchio protested. "Now I just want everything to be all right again."

"There's more to the healing process than that," Arietta informed him patiently. "It takes time and sincere effort."

"It's not like you get over something just like that," said Armando, with an emphatic click of his fingers. "You can't expect a quick fix, or an easy way out. It's not a matter of hit and run."

"What more can I do?"

"Well, you've already begun by saying outright that you have a problem," Arietta said. "You made it clear that you need help."

"We'll do our best to help in any way we can," Armando added as he reached across the table for Pinocchio's hand. "I know Terence would be more than willing to help in any way he can, too. But what happens, my boy, ultimately depends on you. You can choose to try to run away from this, sit around and let it eat you up, or face it straight on."

In spite of himself, the faintest smile played at the corners of Pinocchio's mouth.

Somehow, Armando and Arietta always knew just what to say, and somehow Pinocchio felt this lesson they were giving him now was far more effective than their lessons of history and mathematics.


	18. Chapter 18: A Compromise

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Welcome back, dear readers. You'll be happy to know this story has received a new update at long last. I'm one happy camper, that's for sure. I thought I'd use this chapter to flesh Rhiella out a little more, to make her not so one-dimensional. Sorry for being so ambiguous about her and Terence's history; when my book is finally done, you'll learn everything you want to know about them, and hopefully things will start making a little more sense.  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 18: A Compromise  
**

While Pinocchio was with Armando and Arietta, Terence and Rhiella stayed in the kitchen, where they worked together to wash and put away the dishes, and basically put everything in its proper order. This done, they lingered at the table once more, only this time they opted to stand rather than sit. "You know, Rhiella," Terence said, his eyes roving over her outfit, "this is the first time I've seen you without a dress."

Running one hand over the leg of her trousers, Rhiella said, "I'll admit this is a most refreshing change from dresses. These things are so much more comfortable and so much easier to walk around in, and I don't have to worry anymore about tripping." She shook her head, half amused, half annoyed. "Sometimes I wonder why men and women can't just make it easier on themselves and wear the same thing."

Terence smiled. "Well, I could care less about what you wear. You're still the most beautiful woman in the world, either way."

"You're too kind," she said, flushing slightly.

"Nonsense. I'm only speaking the truth." At length, Terence asked, "So, how long have you been in this town?"

"Not too long. Only about a week or so."

"Where have you been staying?"

"At this rather nice place called the White Fish Inn."

"The White Fish Inn?" Terence looked at her in genuine astonishment. Did this mean she was there the day he and Pinocchio visited Bernardo and Gahiji, and they never realized it?

When he mentioned this to Rhiella, she seemed as surprised as he did. "Talk about a coincidence," was all she could find to say.

Then Terence asked her something he had meant to bring up earlier. "That night in the village," he said, "after I found Pinocchio, I was sure I saw you standing there in the shadows. Why did you run away?"

Now Rhiella's entire face looked like a ripe pomegranate. "That was pretty stupid of me," she sheepishly admitted after a moment. "I don't know what happened. It was just such a nasty shock to see you right there, after all this time, and an even greater shock to see that you'd had a child in your possession. I thought that you—well, you know."

"You thought that I found someone else and fathered a child with her." Terence looked at her with solemn compassion. "You thought that I replaced you."

Rhiella bowed her head. "That was what got to me, more than anything else," she said. "I know we haven't known each other for too long, Terence, and that we haven't officially tied the knot, so to speak. I know you're not my property…but the idea of you with another woman…it cuts me like a knife. It's almost more than I can take."

"I understand," he answered softly, brushing his thumb across her jaw. "I'm surprised at how close we grew in the short time we were together, just as I'm surprised at how attached I've become to Pinocchio. I don't know what sets Pinocchio apart from other children, no more than I know what sets you apart from other women. All I truly know is that you are both dear to my heart, and I wouldn't trade either of you for the world."

"That's what I want to talk to you about," Rhiella said, her voice little more than a whisper.

"What is it?"

Rather than tell him, Rhiella crossed over to the window, where she gazed out at the wet, foggy world. After a while, Terence went to stand with her, resting his hand on her shoulder. "What is it, dearest?" he asked again. When she still said nothing, he persisted, "Go on."

"I don't know," she said at last. "I don't know if I can explain this in a way that you would understand."

"Try me. I have more intelligence than a mushroom."

After taking another minute to think of the right words, she said, "Don't get me wrong, Terence. Don't think I have anything against Pinocchio. He's a very nice boy, a sweet boy. But…"

"But?" he prompted.

Rhiella sighed and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. "But I don't know if I'm ready for this," she confessed. "I can't leave this place without you, now that I've finally found you. But now Pinocchio has become part of the parcel. To take you back means to take him as well. Not just for a little while, either. Not for a week, or a month, or a year, but for good."

"Yes."

"Even if a child is well-behaved, even if that child never gives you any trouble, it's still an enormous responsibility. You still have to feed him, bathe him, tend to him when he's sick or hurt—in essence, you must take every bit as much thought for him as you would for yourself. You're committed to him wholly and unconditionally."

"That's true, Rhiella."

"And don't think I'm opposed to the idea of raising a child. All my life, I dreamed of the day that I would have children to call my own. But this—it feels like it's too soon, that too much is happening at once. You've had some time to be with Pinocchio, but this has sprung up on me without warning. I've had no way to prepare for this. I don't know the boy the way you do. I'm not yet as comfortable with him as you are. I don't know what he likes and doesn't like; I don't know his favorite foods, his favorite songs and stories, his personal habits, his private fears, or any of that." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Terence. I sound pretty callous, don't I?"

"It's all right, honey," he replied gently. "I understand where you're coming from perfectly. It is indeed a great responsibility. When I first took Pinocchio in, I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew this meant I would be stuck with him for good. But it was a chance I was willing to take, and never have I once regretted my decision." Taking Rhiella's chin in his hands, making her look him in the eye, he went on as soothingly as ever, "I won't force you into anything, love, nor will I rush you. For now, let's just take it one day at a time. Get to know Pinocchio a little better, and let him get to know you. The very least you can do is try."

With a partial smile, Rhiella said, "Yes, I suppose it is worth a try." She added, "After all, a boy that you're willing to foster as your own has to be worth something."

Terence smiled and drew her into his arms. She came willingly, and her arms wrapped around him at the same time his arms enfolded her. "Thank you, Rhiella," he whispered. "Thank you for being so understanding and cooperative."

"And thank _you_, Terence," she whispered back, "for being so sweet and kind. I wish there were more men like you, for they are wanted badly enough in this world."


	19. Chapter 19: A Good Night

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_This wasn't too hard to write. I had a fairly good idea of what I wanted to have happen next. I decided to skip ahead a bit in time, to do something that, for once, doesn't involve any crying, and you see at least a few more characters.  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 19: A Good Night  
**

"Well, that was an excellent dinner, Terence," said Arietta. "Thank you for inviting us to stay and share it with you. The food was absolutely marvelous."

"Please, no one mention the word 'food' again tonight," Armando said, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his very full stomach.

Giving her husband a playful poke in the shoulder, Arietta told him, "Hey, no one forced you to pile your plate that high, mister. It's your own fault you chose to eat that much."

"Could I help it if everything tasted so dang good?" he countered.

"Keep this up and you'll be as big as Bernardo one of these days."

"Ha, ha, not likely. I doubt a cow would be able to gain half as much."

Terence laughed and answered heartily, "Glad you enjoyed the meal, mates."

Rhiella also secretly wished she hadn't eaten so much, but the food had really been wonderful. She admired Terence's culinary skills, as well as her own, for she had pitched in some. Jiminy, too, was feeling quite pleasantly stuffed. Next to the table, Figaro was just polishing the last bit of gravy from his whiskers, and Duke lay contentedly on his side on the floor. Cleo swam idly about in her bowl, also savoring the satisfaction that comes from a nourishing meal. Pinocchio, while he hadn't eaten nearly as much as the grown-ups, had managed a little bit of everything and felt oddly happy—or, at the least, better than he had earlier that day.

"Bernardo could use a cook like you at his place," Arietta told Terence.

"I'll definitely keep that in mind," Terence said. "I admit I've developed a genuine pleasure in the art of food."

Armando groaned.

"So those two nice gentlemen from the inn are also friends of yours, eh?" said Rhiella.

"That's right," Arietta said. "Bernardo and Armando go way back. They're like brothers."

"I guess you could say that," Armando said. "A crazy brother at times, to be sure, but a brother all the same."

Rhiella smiled, but that smile faltered somewhat when she said, "Now that the weather's settled down, I suppose this means I ought to head back to the White Fish Inn tonight."

Terence didn't want her to go, but knew she couldn't very well waste good money on a place she wasn't even staying in. Furthermore, as they were yet unmarried, it didn't seem appropriate for them to be sharing the same roof day in and day out. Besides, he loved and respected her far too much to put her in any questionable situations. "Why don't you spend the day with us tomorrow," he suggested, "and you can return to the inn at night? This way, we can still be together, and you and I wouldn't be…well, you know."

Rhiella knew, all right. Much as she loved Terence, she too had her morals to uphold. "That's a splendid idea," she said. "And we can spend the day after that, and the day after that—"

Laughing again, he gently cut her off, "All right, dearest, all right—one day at a time."

"Sorry." To the others, Rhiella admitted, "Sometimes I get a little ahead of myself."

As Terence stood up, he asked, with a rather droll accent, "Mind if I escort thee to yonder inn, my fair lady?"

Now it was Rhiella's turn to laugh. "It shall be my honor, my good man."

"Armando," said Terence, "would you mind staying here for a little longer, to keep an eye on Pinocchio? At least until I come back?"

"No problem, Terence," Armando said.

"I'll stay, too," Arietta said. "I'm in no hurry."

Armando gave his belly one final pat as he said, "Need some time to let my dinner settle anyway."

"Thank you," Terence said. Seeing the look on Pinocchio's face, he gently assured him, "Don't worry, Pinoke. I promise I won't be so long this time. I'll be back by your bedtime for sure."

Pinocchio made no reply, but when Terence hugged him goodbye, he held onto the young man a little tighter than usual, and he turned away to avoid hugging Rhiella. Rhiella was a little taken aback. She knew she was still virtually a stranger to Pinocchio; she, herself, wasn't fully comfortable with the boy. Yet it surprised her, even stung her some, that he was a tad too obvious about evading her. But she said nothing about it.

Just before he headed out, Terence had Armando hold out his hand, and he placed a small linen bag into it. "What's this?" Armando asked.

"Your payment," Terence answered. "As Pinocchio's teacher, remember? A deal is a deal."

When Armando opened the bag, he and Arietta were surprised at the number of coins inside. While it was nothing too extravagant, it was definitely a lot more than they'd ever earned at the circus. "Wow!" Arietta whispered while Armando whistled through his teeth.

"Think that will be enough?" Terence asked.

"Oh yes," said Armando in a low voice. "Plenty."

"That's very generous of you, Terence," said Arietta, staring at him in awe and disbelief. "We…we really don't know what to say."

Terence smiled. "Well, you know what they say, mates. You can't put a price on a good education."

"It's more than we deserve," Armando said.

"Nonsense. You two just keep focusing on your half of the bargain, and I'll focus on mine."

* * *

Terence and Rhiella made it to the White Fish Inn in good time. It wasn't nearly so crowded as it had been the first time Terence visited the place; in fact, it was just Bernardo and Gahiji, along with a handful of people scattered about, some eating, some drinking, and two or three were chatting idly while playing a round of cards.

"Good evening, Bernardo," said Terence when they had met up with the man.

"Terence, m'boy!" said Bernardo in his usual jovial manner, greeting the youth with yet another rib-cracking hug. "Good to see you once again! Welcome back, lad, welcome back!"

"Thanks, mate," said Terence, giving his side a light rub when he was free again. "But, you know, there's got to be a less painful way to greet me."

Seeing Rhiella, Bernardo's eyes grew decidedly bigger, and his mouth formed a perfect _O _of astonishment and wonder. It took him but a second to get the picture. "Well, well, _well_," he said in a hushed voice, "what have we here?" To his companion, he said, "Can you believe this, Gahiji? Looks like Terence has snagged himself a little lady!"

Gahiji looked and sounded every bit as impressed as he said, "Well, I'll be—as they say—a son of a gun!"

"I presume you _do_ know each other?" said Bernardo, his gaze shifting meaningfully between Terence and Rhiella.

"Yes, we do," said Rhiella, looking fondly at her beloved. "Very well, indeed." She leaned against Terence's shoulder for just a moment, and he responded with a kiss to her temple.

"Ah, young love," Bernardo sighed. "Ain't it beautiful?"

"Can we get you anything?" Gahiji asked. "A glass of wine, or something?"

"No, thanks," said Terence. "I just thought I'd bring her back here, bid her goodnight."

Gahiji nodded in acceptance. "Oh, all right, then. We shall leave you to it."

"But you should most definitely drop by for dinner sometime," Bernardo insisted.

"Thank you," Rhiella said. "Perhaps we will."

Gahiji went back to scrubbing the tables and countertops, and just before Bernardo returned to his work, he whispered to Terence secretively, "You take my advice, boy, and don't let this one get away."

"I won't," Terence whispered back; inwardly, he added, _And I never will. Not ever again. _

When he and Rhiella found themselves alone once more, Rhiella said, "I suppose this is where we part ways."

"At least until tomorrow," he said, tracing her jawline. "If you ask me, tomorrow can't come soon enough."

"Dream of me, Terence."

"I don't think I'll be able to dream of anything else tonight." They slipped into each other's arms, held each other as close as they could for as long as they could. "I love you," Terence whispered fervently, right before he kissed her.

"I love you more."

"I love you most."


	20. Chapter 20: An Outing

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_So you thought I forgot about this story, did you? Well, if you did, this thing proves otherwise! It feels wonderful to return to this after what feels like ages. _

_It helped that I watched _Pinocchio_ earlier tonight, which got the creative juices pumping once more._

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 20: An Outing  
**

As the days rolled along, Terence was a great deal happier than Pinocchio or Jiminy had ever seen him. He went about his housework with considerably more vigor, often humming, whistling, and singing cheery tunes to himself while he did so. Beyond that, the quality of his cooking increased, along with the quantity. Of course, he had always been a fair cook, he never made something Pinocchio and the others couldn't eat; but lately, there were remarkable differences in the meals he doled out.

Whenever he and Rhiella were together, they were inseparable. Not a day went by when Pinocchio didn't see them kissing until it seemed they would kiss each other's faces off, or hugging so tightly that the boy was sure their bodies would permanently stick together. Sometimes the young couple danced around the parlor together, either to the tinkle of a little music box, or to Terence's own singing—or, in some cases, both—with Rhiella often joining in. They made a lovely duet; even Pinocchio had to admit to that.

Pinocchio would hear songs he knew quite well, Terence having sung them to him before bed, such as "Beautiful Dreamer" and "Too-Ra-Loo-Ra-Loo-Ral" and "Once Upon a December" (even though winter was yet a little way off); as well as songs that he knew next to nothing about, such as "Greensleeves" and "O Rowan Tree" and "Will Ye Go, Lassie, Go."

One night, when Pinocchio should have been in bed, he instead watched them while they moved about the floor in a gentle, hypnotic waltz. Pinocchio always knew Terence was light on his feet, but it amazed the boy at how he and Rhiella danced; they seemed to tread the air itself. Their bodies appeared to move as one, rather than two. Rhiella's head rested in the hollow of Terence's throat while he crooned in her ear:

_"Let me teach you how to dance,  
Let me lead you to the floor.  
Simply place your hand in mine  
And then think of nothing more._

_"Let the music cast its spell,  
Give the atmosphere a chance,  
Simply follow where I lead.  
Let me teach you how to dance." _

Pinocchio watched them for a long time, but they never once looked at him or acknowledged him, probably didn't know he was there in the first place. When the child slipped back to his room, still no one gave the least sign of notice.

In his room, in the moon's soft glow, under the warmth of his covers with Terry nestled against his cheek, Pinocchio lay awake for what must have been hours, unable to banish the image of Terence and Rhiella, and how happy they both looked. Sure, Pinocchio had seen Terence with a happy expression many times, but in that parlor, in that moment…the young man fairly glowed. He was never that way when it was just him and Pinocchio. This realization made Pinocchio very _un_happy, and somehow inadequate, as if he weren't good enough for Terence anymore.

This is not to say that Terence _totally _disregarded Pinocchio. There were times when the young man did invite the boy to join them; most of the time, Pinocchio accepted, but he stayed as far away from Rhiella as possible, if he could help it. Even when the three of them were together, Pinocchio never felt like he fit in, and Terence kept his attention fixed on Rhiella half the time.

It seemed he could never get enough of the girl, nor she enough of him.

Some days went reasonably well for Pinocchio. He flourished in his studies with Arietta and Armando, and he slept four nights in a row without a trace of Fabrizio or the circus in his dreams. Still, the boy often felt confused, discouraged, and very lonely, even when Terence and Jiminy were right there, and every day his envy and resentment toward Rhiella worsened. Aside from this, he was at a loss of why he should even feel this way in the first place; perhaps he might have liked her a little better if she and Terence didn't act so lovey-dovey.

On the other hand, the animals grew fonder of Rhiella by the day. It reached the point where Duke and Figaro ran to her as soon as they saw her, and they stuck to her like glue. Sometimes, when she was sitting, Figaro would curl up in her lap, and Duke either would lie quietly at her feet or (if there was enough room) jump up alongside her. She always gave both cat and dog a soft touch and a friendly word. Cleo also took to the lady very much.

As for Jiminy, he was turning into quite the flirt, making some Don Juan comment that made Terence laugh or roll his eyes; once, the young man hid his face in his palm when Jiminy, in a pitiful attempt to sound poetic, asked Rhiella if the rainbow was missing its green shaft due to the greenness of her eyes. But Rhiella found the little cricket cute and charming all the same. One time, Pinocchio overheard Terence say that it was a good thing Jiminy was just a cricket, otherwise there would be some fine competition going on between them, and Rhiella laughingly assured him, "You have no competition, beloved. Never have, never will."

Her relationship with Armando and Arietta improved steadily, too. Of course, Armando made it clear to everyone that he was happily married, but he was very friendly and polite to Rhiella, always greeting her with a little bow; every now and then, he placed a respectful kiss to the back of her hand. Arietta usually curtsied whenever she and Rhiella came into the same room, and for a little while, she addressed her as "my lady" until Rhiella told her she would much rather be called by her true name.

One day, when the weather had turned especially warm, Terence and Rhiella decided to take advantage of it and go for an outing. They invited not only Pinocchio to come with them, but Armando and Arietta as well. "You mean it?" said Arietta, as if she couldn't believe her ears.

"Why not?" Terence smiled at them. "I daresay you two have earned a little holiday."

Needless to say, they were thrilled, and neither hesitated to agree to it.

Duke and Jiminy decided to tag along, too, whereas Figaro decided he would much rather stay at home. Duke shook his head at his little furry companion and gave him an _"I'll never understand you"_ look before trotting out the door.

This outing took place by a beautiful, crystal-clear lake just beyond the village; the grass grew tall and thick, wildflowers of varying sizes and colors peppered the ground, and there were some splendid trees that provided some splendid shade. The group brought a large picnic lunch with them, which consisted of thick sandwiches with all the trimmings, pickled sausages, blocks of soft white cheese, fruit from Terence and Pinocchio's orchard, a choice of cool milk or sweet lemonade, and for dessert, an assortment of fresh cakes and pies, including orange meringue pie and spiced apple cake.

"Oooh, looks good enough to eat," Armando said when they were all sitting in the shade and ready to dig in.

"Just remember to save some for the rest of us poor, hungry souls," said Arietta, poking him in the shoulder, as she did fairly often.

"Ah, don't you worry, my dear. I'll make sure to save you a crust or two; perhaps I'll go the extra mile with a sliver of cheese."

Terence and Rhiella both laughed, and Terence said, "I can see how it is that you used to be in the clowning business, Armando."

"Clown has always been my middle name," Armando grinned.

"I thought your middle name was Ferdinand," Arietta said.

"Oh, details, details, details!"

This led to another fit of laughter. Even Pinocchio couldn't repress a small smile. "All right, you jokers," said Rhiella when she could speak, "let's eat. We didn't put this good lunch together to have it go to waste."

"I'm in favor of that," Terence said, helping himself to one of the sandwiches.

They had a marvelous time eating, drinking, and chatting with one another. Once in a while, Terence let Duke have a sausage or a bite of cheese. Armando had some decent-sized portions, but there was enough food to fill everybody to the brim.

When the last savory crumb was gone, everybody relaxed for a while, allowing their food to settle. Terence sat with his back braced against one of the trees, and Rhiella lay beside him with her head in his lap. He sat very still and let her do this, one hand fondling her long, silken hair. Armando and Arietta followed their example, only Armando was the one to put his head in Arietta's lap. Duke curled into a quiet, snug ball between the two couples and buried his nose in his paws.

Pinocchio, feeling neglected and edgy, decided to go for a little walk.

Only Jiminy noticed the boy's absence, and promptly went springing after him. He found Pinocchio by the lake's edge, moodily skipping stones across the water, a skill he had learned from Terence. Sensing that something was bothering the boy, the cricket leaped onto a large, sunny boulder next to him and said, "Hey, Pinoke, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," Pinocchio mumbled with his eyes on the lake.

Jiminy didn't buy it for a minute. "You know, son," he said sagely, "from what I've experienced, a little bit of 'nothing' usually means a great deal of 'something.' Come on, what's wrong? You can tell me. We could always talk to each other."

Pinocchio sighed, but gave in. "It's Rhiella."

"What about Rhiella?"

"I don't like her, Jiminy."

"What?" This took Jiminy quite aback. "What do you mean, you don't like her? What has she done to you?"

"Oh, I _like_ her okay—or, at least, I would if Terence didn't like her so much."

Jiminy narrowed his eyes in a look of complete perplexity. "What are you saying?"

Pinocchio let go of the rock he had been prepared to chuck into the water, and it landed with a dull thud next to his foot. "I'm sorry," the boy said, ducking his head. "That was a dumb thing to say. I just…I just don't know what I'm supposed to feel for her. She's really nice, very beautiful, funny, and smart. But I…I…" He faltered, unwilling to give voice to the word, but unable to think of any other alternative. Finally, he let it spill: "I'm jealous, Jiminy."

"Ohh," said the cricket softly, understanding now dawning on his face.

Pinocchio's face all but burned with embarrassment and shame, yet he kept going, now that he had started. "It's rotten, but true. You've seen how she and Terence are when they're together. Terence hardly thinks about anything else these days. They're always so happy, and it makes me so…_unhappy_. It makes me angry, and sad, and scared—"

"Scared of what?" Jiminy cut in.

"That Terence won't need me so much anymore. That he loves her more than he loves me."

"You don't actually believe that, do you, Pinoke?"

"I don't want to, but the thought's there, and I can't help it."

Jiminy shook his head. "Pinocchio, surely you know by now how much Terence cares for you. After all he's done for you, I should say it takes far much more than a pretty girl to make him cast you aside."

"I know he cares for me," Pinocchio said honestly. "I have no doubt of that. But he and I have only been together for a short time, and from what I hear, he and Rhiella were together for a long time. He's used to her, but I'm not. It's a big change for me."

"Taking on a permanent home with Terence was a big change, too," Jiminy reminded him.

"And no sooner do I start getting used to it than another big change comes along." Pinocchio shook his head and sighed again. "Sometimes I just wish things could stay the way they are."

Jiminy said no more, but he regarded his boy with a look of heartfelt pity.

They stayed in that spot until Armando came looking for them. "Oh, there you are, Pinoke!" he said. "We wondered where you wandered off to."

"Hi, Armando," said Pinocchio, trying to mask his true emotions.

"What are you doing way over here?"

"Nothing. Just watching the lake, and skipping stones."

"Oh, you can skip stones, eh?" Armando cocked an eyebrow in great interest.

Pinocchio nodded. "Terence taught me." To prove it, he picked up another pebble and managed to get three skips across the water.

"Not bad," said Armando, fingering his goatee. "Not bad at all." Stooping to take a pebble of his own, he went on, "But can you or Terence top this?" With a deft flick of his wrist, he sent his pebble bouncing at least six times before it sank.

"Wow!" Pinocchio's eyes widened, his mouth shaping a perfect _O_. "How did you do that?"

"Comes with practice, my boy…and it's all in the wrists."

Another stone went flying just then, and this one scored ten solid skips.

"Great job, Armando!" said Pinocchio.

"I didn't do that," Armando said, looking puzzled.

"Like he says, it's all in the wrists," Arietta's smug voice said from behind.

Armando and Pinocchio both turned to find not only Arietta standing there, but Terence and Rhiella as well. "Ah," said Terence, his hands folded behind his back, "a little competition going on, I see, eh?"

"I guess you could call it that," said Armando.

"Good pitch," Rhiella complimented Arietta.

"Thank you, my la…Rhiella," Arietta quickly corrected herself.

"Mind if I take a shot at it?" Terence asked, and without even waiting for anyone's response, he had stridden up, scooped up a rock, and thrown it in an eye's twinkling.

Armando vocally counted the number of times it hurdled over the water as they all watched: "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve…" He had almost reached fifteen by the time the rock's momentum slowed and it disappeared. "Wowsers!" he now said, with his characteristic whistle.

"Amazing!" Arietta said.

Now it was Terence's turn to look smug as he made a little bow. "Want to try your luck, madam?" he asked Rhiella.

"Oh, I suppose it's worth a try," Rhiella said as she sauntered up next to him. After taking a minute to study the rocks scattered at her feet, she selected one, handling it with as much care as if it were made of glass. She eyed the thing closely, rotated it, tossed it from hand to hand a few times, and then made a nod of satisfaction. "Yes, I believe this one will do very nicely." She blew on it once for good luck, then took her position at the water's edge.

After another minute of aiming, she wound up and let the thing go. It easily sailed the farthest of all the rocks; Armando couldn't count fast enough. No one knew how many skips it made altogether, for it virtually vanished into the horizon.

"Holy mackerel!" Armando gasped, eyes wide as saucers.

Arietta said nothing, but had her eyes been any wider, they would have popped out of her head. Pinocchio and Jiminy looked every bit as awestruck.

Rhiella eyed Terence haughtily as she dusted off her hands, one against the other. "I think we know who the winner is, don't we, my dear?"

"Is that so?" Terence's blue eyes flashed. The next thing anyone knew, he had swept Rhiella into his arms, so that her feet left the ground altogether. "Well, then," the young man continued, carrying her to a wide, flat stone that stretched over the deeper part of the lake, "let's see if your little ego can help you float, missy."

Realizing his intention, Rhiella exclaimed, "You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh, wouldn't I?"

"Put me down, Terence!"

"As you wish," he replied as he stood at the stone's lip, and dumped her into the water.

Rhiella's high-pitched shriek was cut short as she landed in the water. She landed with a terrific splash; it must have been deeper than anyone expected, for it was at least ten seconds before she broke the surface, soaking wet. When she got her breath back, she told a hysterical Terence, "You did that on purpose!"

But of course, she really wasn't angry.

"Looks like you're all washed up," Terence taunted her.

Right then, he felt a hard shove from behind, causing him to lose his balance and topple forward. He, too, uttered a startled cry before he hit the water facefirst. By the time he surfaced as well, gasping and sputtering, it was Armando's turn to laugh.

"Who's washed up, now?" Armando gloated.

While his back was turned, Arietta attempted to sneak up on him and push him in, too. He, however, had a good idea of what was coming. Quick as a flash, he turned, seized his wife, and threw her in instead. Rhiella dived underwater just in time, but Arietta landed on top of Terence, bringing him down for a second dunking.

"Nice try, Arietta," Armando said when she came up. "But I've lived long enough a life of jokes and pranks to know whenever someone else tries to pull one on me!"

Arietta scowled at him at first, then couldn't help herself and laughed with the rest of them.

Once they'd settled down, they decided to take advantage of the opportunity and go for a swim. Terence loved swimming, as did Rhiella, as it became apparent. Arietta, while not quite as skilled, paddled around a bit here and there. Eventually, Armando decided to join them. He just took off his boots and his hat, and then jumped in. Duke took part in the fun as well, while Pinocchio opted to stand by and watch.

Together, Terence and Rhiella swam laps, back and forth, using all kinds of strokes. Since the water was so clear, they often went under it, their bodies taking on odd, distorted shapes. Sometimes they splashed each other impishly, and sometimes they just rested on the surface, letting themselves float where they would. They were very good at holding their breath; once, Terence was facedown for so long that Pinocchio was on the verge of panic before the young man lifted his head at last to breathe again.

After what must have been an hour, maybe an hour and a half, everyone came slogging onto dry ground, about as wet as they could possibly get. "Well," said Terence, pushing his dripping hair out of his eyes, "that was most refreshing."

"At least I've been spared a bath," said Armando, regarding his sodden form.

"And I get the day off from laundry duty, too," Arietta said.

A thoroughly drenched Duke walked a good distance from the group before he shook himself all over, sending a shower of crystal drops in every direction. "Looks like we've saved Duke the trouble of a bath, as well," Terence said. "I imagine it will take forever for that dog to be dry again, as it will be for the rest of us."

"And we can give a big thanks to you," Rhiella told him as she wrung out her hair. "After all, you're the one who started this."

"Guilty as charged." Terence shook his head happily. "But don't think I'm sorry, because I'm not. Not in the least little bit."

Seeing yet another sappy moment coming on, Pinocchio asked, "Can we go home, now? I'm getting kind of tired."

"We better get going, too," said Arietta as she surveyed the afternoon sky. "I wasn't planning to be out for this long."

"Time sure flies when you're having fun," Armando said.

"It sure does," Terence whispered with his eyes on Rhiella, and hers on him in turn.

Pinocchio, feeling a rather hot, sick feeling bubbling in his stomach, turned without a word and hurried away to fetch their basket.

* * *

When they made it back to the cottage, everyone loitered for a while outside the front door. By this time, the young adults were mostly dry from their dip, though their clothes were still a little damp and their hair trailed limply in their faces.

"Well, this has certainly been a lovely day," Arietta said. "Thank you, Terence. Thank you, Rhiella."

"I don't recall having that much fun in ages," said Armando. "Thanks, mates."

"You're both most welcome," Terence said. "I'm glad you all had a great time. I know I did."

"As did I," said Rhiella.

Pinocchio just looked away.

To Rhiella, Terence said, "So, my dear, think you'll be able to meet with us again tomorrow, same time, same place?"

"Oh, as if she's got anything better to do," said Pinocchio, the words spilling from his mouth before he could stop them.

Jiminy wasn't the only one to look at the boy with a surprised expression. Even Duke quirked his ears. Terence, the most startled of all, was speechless for at least five seconds before he found his tongue. "What did you say, Pinocchio?"

Unable to help himself, unable to keep it inside any longer, Pinocchio blurted, "Aw, come on, we all know Rhiella is here every single day—just about every single minute, for that matter. Where else would she be? Why ask such a stupid question, Terence?"

"_Pinocchio!_" Jiminy gasped; he had never heard the boy speak like that to Terence before, or to anyone.

If Terence was shocked before, he was truly flabbergasted. Arietta put her hand to her mouth, while Armando stood and stared with eyes to rival the size of the moon.

Rhiella was every bit as stunned as the rest of them, if not the most stunned.

"If you like it here so much," Pinocchio told her in a voice nettle-sharp with sarcasm, "why don't you just live here all the time? Then you'd never have to go anywhere and you and Terence would have all the time in the world to do all the silly, mushy things you do. That's what you want, isn't it? You don't ever think about anything else, do you? _I _sure don't think so!"

To see and hear this kind of lip aimed at Rhiella, Terence's shock dissolved faster than water on a hot skillet. "Pinocchio!" he said, with a tone and glare he had never used with him before. "Don't you _dare _talk to her like that! Apologize, right now!"

But instead of apologizing, Pinocchio just turned and hurtled through the open doorway, as fast as he could. Terence reached out a hand to stop him, but the boy was too quick for him.

"Pinocchio!" Terence hollered. "Pinocchio—you come back here! _Pinocchio!_"

But Pinocchio kept going, all the way into the house, never once looking back. Seconds later, the faint but distinct slam of the boy's bedroom door sounded.


	21. Chapter 21: The Quarrel

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Lo and behold, another update, courtesy of yours truly. If the preceding chapter caught you off your guard, just wait until you read this one.  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**Chapter 21: The Quarrel  
**

Pinocchio expected Terence to come storming into his room straightaway, to lay into him the very instant he set foot inside the door. In fact, it was at least a minute before the door opened, and Terence came in quietly, though briskly. He did not shout or snap, either—for that matter, he didn't say a single word for another minute or two.

Even so, Pinocchio needed take only one look at his face to know he was _very_ angry. The young man's face was terrible, as if all the love and gentleness had disappeared.

Terence stood by the boy's bed, arms crossed over his chest, one foot tapping the floor, his jaw set tight. Had Pinocchio not been simmering himself already, he would have quailed beneath that harsh glare. When Terence spoke at last, his tone was as cold as his eyes. "Young man, that was the most childish, disgraceful, completely uncalled-for display I have ever seen or would have ever expected to see from you. I just can't believe you, of all people, would have the gall to say such things to Rhiella's face. What have you got to say for yourself?"

Sullenly, Pinocchio shot back, "Why wouldn't I? It's not as if I said anything that wasn't true. It's not like she's not here every chance she gets."

"'She' is our guest," Terence said, even sterner than before, "and you had no right to treat her like that. I thought you knew better, Pinocchio. I'm far more disappointed in you than I can say."

"What do you care, anyway? She's all you ever think about anymore. She's all everybody else ever talks about anymore. Ever since she came here, it's been nothing but her, her, _her_, every stinking time I turn around."

"You watch your tongue!"

But Pinocchio had come too far to quit now. He was too full of his own resentment and ever-mounting frustration to keep it inside any longer. "What's so great about her, Terence?" the boy demanded, his posture growing straighter and stiffer as he spoke. "What business did she have to come dropping into our lives? Everything was just fine until she came along."

"Stop it!" Terence ordered, moving closer, his face flushing a dangerous shade of red.

"Maybe it would have been better if we never found her at all—"

At that moment, Terence lost it. Leaning over Pinocchio, both hands grasping the bed's edge, he all but bellowed in the child's face, "SHUT UP!"

That got Pinocchio, all right. The boy was so startled and so terrified that he toppled flat onto his back, and there he lay, frozen, speechless.

"That's enough out of you," Terence said as he straightened up, his voice quieter this time, but no less cross. "Until you can control that cheek of yours, until you can learn a little more respect, you will be staying here. As of this moment, little mister, you are confined to your room for the rest of the day _and_ night. I do not want to see you or hear another peep out of you until then." With that, he turned his back on Pinocchio and marched out the door, shutting the thing behind him with considerably more force than usual.

No sooner was he gone than Pinocchio's mind and composure turned to soup. Tears leaked out onto the boy's cheeks, and he hid his face in his pillow and cried like a baby. He cried harder than he ever recalled crying before. Aside from the issue with Rhiella, shame and guilt flooded every inch of him; Terence had never spoken to him like that before, nor had he spoken to Terence like that. In all the time they'd spent together, this marked their first official fight about anything.

What was the matter with him? Why did he have to go and open his big mouth in the first place?

What must Terence think of him now? What about Jiminy, and all the others? Worse, what must his father think of him? No doubt Geppetto would have been so disappointed in him, if not the most disappointed of them all. That last thought alone nearly doubled the horrible feelings that weighed Pinocchio down, and Pinocchio buried his face further into his pillow and wept until he'd wept himself dry.

Meantime, Terence had only just made it to the parlor when he felt his anger melt away, to be replaced with his own shame. His own eyes filled up, a fist-sized lump blocked his throat, and in his heart, he groaned, _Oh, Pinocchio…what have I done? _

Notwithstanding Pinocchio's poor behavior, Terence had never thought he would see the day when he would yell at the boy, least of all punish him.

Slowly, shakily, the young man made his way for the nearest chair. His tears were already flowing before he sat down, though, aside from his ragged breathing, he didn't make a sound. With his elbows against his knees, he buried his face in his hands. He might have sat there for a long time, or for only a minute; he wouldn't have known the difference either way. But when he sensed someone's approach, when he mustered the nerve to look up once more, the sight of Rhiella greeted his watery eyes.

No questions had to be asked; Rhiella knew straight off that it had not gone well with him and Pinocchio at all.

"Well," she said at length. "Now you must know what it's _really_ like to be a parent."

Wiping at his eyes, Terence half-croaked, "I'm sorry, Rhiella. I don't know what's gotten into him. He's never been like this before…nor have I been like this before, where he's concerned. A moment ago, I could have throttled him with my bare hands. Now I feel awful, simply awful. I just don't know what to do about that boy."

"Neither do I."

"W-what?" Terence gave her a somewhat puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I don't know how this is going to work." Rhiella sighed and turned away, putting her hand to her forehead. "Terence…we've been doing this for quite a while now. I have tried to be good to Pinocchio, tried to give him every reason to like me, and myself every reason to like him in turn. Heaven knows I've tried. But now, I can't help but feel that we're wasting our time."

Terence felt his heart sink. "Surely you're not giving up, are you?" he was almost too afraid to ask.

"No…but I don't see us going anywhere, either. I don't see how much progress we have made, if any. As far as I'm concerned, every time we take a step forward, we end up two steps further back. I don't know how I can keep this up, Terence…or whether I even can."

Though she didn't say it, Terence suspected she was thinking the same thing as Pinocchio: maybe it would have been better if they had never bumped into each other at the start. From the girl's tone and stance, it was almost as if she was telling Terence that he could only have one or the other. Once or twice, Terence opened his mouth, as if to say something, but instead he just turned away himself. With a sigh that seemed to come from the soles of his boots, he closed his eyes once more and put a hand over them.

At length, he heard Rhiella say, "I'll go let myself out."

And so she did, without looking back, without another word.

When she was gone, Arietta stepped into the parlor for a minute, with Armando right behind her. They looked at Terence, still slumped in the chair with his hand over his face, looking so forlorn that it plucked at their heartstrings. Arietta looked at Armando, who merely tilted his head the other way, indicating that they should go and leave Terence in peace. She followed her husband out the door with no objection, though she kept stealing anxious glances over her shoulder as they went.

Soon, only Jiminy and Duke were left. Duke pawed at Terence's leg and gave a soft whine, but Terence didn't budge, didn't acknowledge the collie in any way.

"Come on, Duke," Jiminy said softly. "Let him have some time alone."

So Duke did, and as he followed the cricket down the hall, Jiminy told the dog with a lopsided smile, "Well, big guy, I will say one thing—you know you're an official family when you start fighting like one."


	22. Chapter 22: A Prayer and a Dream

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Hello, friends. For those who are still dedicated to this story, here is the latest chapter, presented with my sincere apologies for the delay and my deepest thanks for your patience. As you read, you'll find a few allusions to the previous story, as well as the original movie. Arm yourselves with plenty of tissues!  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

******Lyrics ****© Disney  
**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved.**_

* * *

**Chapter 22: A Prayer and a Dream  
**

Even before he was left alone, Terence already felt as isolated as if he were stranded on the moon. His heart felt tugged in so many directions; he was amazed it hadn't already split apart.

_What can I do? _the youth asked himself as he continued to sit there. _What more can I do? Why does this have to be so complicated? _Then, without knowing where it came from, the following thought slipped into his mind, _What would Geppetto have done? _

At this last thought, he slowly withdrew his hand and straightened his posture. He looked around, as if some deep part of him expected Geppetto to be in that very room. Even though there was nothing out of the ordinary, the notion Terence just had refused to go away.

Of course, Terence knew next to nothing about this Geppetto. He only knew about the man from what Pinocchio had told him, and from the drawings in Pinocchio's little collection. According to what Terence saw and heard, Geppetto must have been truly remarkable. Surely the old man would know how to handle this situation—or have some better idea, anyway.

Almost unconsciously, Terence found himself saying to the open air, "Geppetto…I've tried so hard to be good to your little boy. I've done everything possible to make him and everyone else happy. Everything used to be so right, but then…then it all went so wrong. What do I do, now? Please tell me."

He waited, his ears as keen as his eyes.

Nothing.

No eye-openers, no sudden stroke of inspiration, no sounds aside from the birds outside the window.

Feeling mortified as well as crestfallen, Terence eventually stood up and made way for his room. Without bothering to remove his boots, he simply flung himself across the soft bedspread. He lay on his front for a time, then slowly shifted to his right side before settling onto his back.

His eyelids grew heavy. His mind began to drift away, like a ship just after the sails had been set. Before too long, the youth was out like a snuffed candle.

* * *

Terence was walking with Rhiella along the shore of a moon-painted lake. A mild breeze caressed them while insects sang their darktime lullabies and the stars blinked with distant white fire. It was the sort of night you'd wish would never end, especially when the person you loved was there to share it with you.

As Terence and Rhiella stood together, naturally they couldn't resist huddling a bit closer to each other. Rhiella had always been tall for her age, but Terence was even taller; she fit almost perfectly under his arm. She buried her face in his chest while his hands played with her hair. "I love you," he crooned into her ear.

"I could hear you say those words a million times," she replied, lifting her gaze to his, "and I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing them."

He laughed. "And every time I say them, they will be nothing short of the gospel truth, or else may I be struck dead where I stand."

Rhiella smiled back, but her tone was serious when she reached toward his cheek and said, "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Terence."

"I could say the same about you, dearest."

"Promise me you'll never leave me."

"I swear it on my very life."

"I could never love another man the way I love you."

"And there's no other woman I would rather spend the rest of eternity with than you."

The next thing Terence knew, he was standing inside a humble but cozy little shop. Fantastic clocks unlike any he had ever seen graced the walls, while shelves upon shelves were laden with every imaginable toy. While Terence marveled at all these wonderful crafts, a voice from behind said, "Well, now, it won't take much longer."

Turning, Terence saw a little, slightly bent man standing at a high counter. The man's hair and thick mustache were as white as Terence's hair and goatee, though his face was clearly older. A small pair of square spectacles settled on the edge of his bulblike nose, and he wore a modest apron over modest work clothes. He didn't look like he lived on the breadline, but he certainly did not possess a silver spoon, either.

Even so, he appeared a very kindly man; he gave off a special warmth that Terence could easily feel from a distance. He also proved to be an exceptional artist, as was manifested in the way he handled the little puppet in front of him—which Terence instantly recognized as Pinocchio.

Terence's breath caught at the sight. He felt his heart make a stutter-step. Could it truly be?

"Just a little more paint, and he's all finished," the old man said as he surveyed Pinocchio's half-completed face. "I think he'll be all right, don't you, Figaro?"

"Mrrow," replied Figaro, who sat alongside Pinocchio on the countertop.

_Geppetto? _Even as Terence wondered it, he knew he couldn't be mistaken.

Singing a pleasant tune to himself, Geppetto took up his brush and proceeded to apply the final touches. Terence marveled at the steadiness of the man's hand, of the way Pinocchio's features came alive with just a few strokes.

"There, see?" said Geppetto as soon as he'd completed Pinocchio's smile. "That makes a big difference!"

_Truly,_ Terence thought, unable to get over the sight.

"Come on," said Geppetto, now scooping Pinocchio into his arms. "We'll try you out. Music, professor!" He pushed a button on one of the music boxes on the nearest shelf, and while the song played, Terence was once again enthralled at the way Geppetto manipulated Pinocchio's strings to make the boy's movements as lifelike as possible. With Figaro tagging along, Geppetto guided Pinocchio all across the room, singing the words to the same melody from before:

_"Little wooden head, go play your part.  
Bring a little joy to every heart.  
Little do you know, and yet it's true  
That I'm mighty proud of you._

_"Little wooden feet, and best of all,  
Little wooden seat in case you fall.  
Never let a single tear be shed,  
My little wooden head. _

_"Happy little chap,  
With a feather in your cap,  
Though they made you of wood,  
You never give a rap.  
Always doing good  
As a little puppet should,  
Chasing each gloomy day away._

_"Little wooden head, with eyes that shine,  
Little wooden head that's made of pine,  
In a weary world, you do your share  
Spreading laughter everywhere._

_"Little wooden feet, and best of all,  
Little wooden seat in case you fall.  
Never let a single tear be shed,  
My little wooden head." _

Later, when Geppetto retired to his bed, Terence watched as the old man caught sight of "the wishing star" and immediately got up to his knees and offered a heartfelt prayer. "Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might have the wish I make tonight. Figaro," he whispered at the end, "you know what I wished?"

When Figaro shook his head, Geppetto leaned in closer to the cat, as if to share the most intimate of secrets. Even so, Terence could hear him just as easily from his position. "I wished that my little Pinocchio might be a real boy. Wouldn't that be nice? Just think, a _real_ boy. A real…boy…"

This marked the time that Terence found himself back in his own bedroom, in his own house. While nothing had changed, Terence's face and pillow felt as wet as if someone just tipped a full bucket of water over him.

* * *

At the same time, Pinocchio was taking a trip down Memory Lane, too. After crying himself to sleep, the boy found himself at his first home, beside Geppetto in their big bed on a windy night. When the wind made a particularly eerie shriek, Pinocchio burrowed under the blankets like a terrified rabbit, only to have them gently pulled back a minute later and find himself gazing into his father's tender eyes.

"Ahh," said Geppetto softly as he regarded his child. "There, there, little wooden head. No need to be frightened. Nothing will get you as long as I'm here."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Pinocchio's mouth. "Will you always be here, Father?"

"Of course." Geppetto folded him into his arms. "I love you, son."

"I love you more," Pinocchio whispered as he returned the fervent embrace.

"I love you most."

Now Pinocchio found himself at the Red Mount Inn, sitting by the glowing hearth with Terence at his side. They were both wrapped in heavy blankets due to a daring rescue at the sea, and Terence had just offered to take on Pinocchio as his own child.

As the two cuddled each other close, Pinocchio couldn't refrain from asking, "Are you an angel, Mr. Terence?"

"An angel?" Terence sounded startled at the question. "What makes you say that?"

"My father used to say that angels are everywhere. He said they tend to appear in unexpected places, at unexpected times, and they're always watching over us and ready to help us when we need help."

Now Terence smiled, even as tears started to trickle down his face. "Well, I don't know about a_ real_ angel…but I will certainly be there when you need me, and I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

"I love you, Mr. Terence."

"I love you, too, Pinocchio."


	23. Chapter 23: Renewed Vows

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Long time, no see, friends and fellow readers. Never fear; I live, as does this story. Writer's block's been a killer, and any ideas I came up with were for my original novels. Speaking of which, I've made a wonderful deal of progress with those babies. While far from an official career as an author, I find myself moving one step closer every day.  
_

* * *

**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved.**_

* * *

**Chapter 23: Renewed Vows  
**

The next day was gray and bleak. While the rain held off, the thick clouds still enfolded everything in a gloomy shade. A lusty wind blew through the leaves and rippled the long grass. Folks for miles around were strongly advised to keep away (and especially keep their children and animals away) from any form of running water, as the water ran much higher and swifter today.

Terence found his mood suited the morning perfectly. He got up from his bed, still garbed in his clothes from the day before, feeling groggy and achy. Not having the strength or incentive to trim his beard or draw a bath, he simply splashed cold water against his face and used his bare fingers to try to straighten his tousled hair.

Afterward, he approached Pinocchio's closed door, but stood still outside it. Twice, he made an attempt to knock, but ended up dropping his hand again. With a heavy sigh, he turned and walked the other way.

In the kitchen, he brewed himself some tea and slathered some butter on a few slices of bread, but even at the table, he just sat and stared into his tea while he listlessly stirred it around. At length, he pushed his cup to the side and leaned forward, bringing his forehead down on his folded arms. He did not know how long he'd stayed like that by the time he heard a small voice say his name.

Recognizing Jiminy's voice, the young man opened his eyes and slowly lifted his head to see the cricket standing in front of him on the table.

"Terence?" Jiminy said again, more as an expression of concern than an inquiry.

"'Lo, Jiminy," Terence murmured back as he rubbed his brow and pressed his lids with his fingertips.

"Rough night, eh?"

"One of the worst." When Terence dropped his hands a minute later, he asked, "What do you want from me?"

Jiminy answered softly, "Just thought I'd check up on you, make sure you're okay."

"From the way you see me right now," Terence said, with the slightest hint of sarcasm, "I'd say it's pretty obvious how 'okay' I am."

"I can see that," said the cricket, feeling himself flush a bit. He waited another minute before he added, "And also, I wanted to talk to you. About Pinoke, that is."

"What about him?"

Jiminy looked around, as if to check for possible eavesdroppers, and then settled onto the edge of the butter dish as he explained, "It's about the way he and you have been getting along lately."

Covering his eyes with his left hand, Terence said jadedly, "Please spare me the lecture, Jiminy. I'm already well aware of how I acted yesterday, and I feel bad enough as it is. Please don't rub it in."

"But it goes beyond that," Jiminy said. "I think I know the source of Pinoke's problem. The way he snapped his cap last afternoon, and all that."

Terence kept his hand pressed to his face, but his eyes regarded the cricket from a crack between his middle and index fingers. "You do?"

Jiminy nodded glumly. "Yeah, and it ain't pretty, either. I doubt I'm the right guy to tell you this, but someone might as well." He drew a deep breath. "You see, Terence, while we were at the lake yesterday, just after we had our picnic, Pinocchio told me—"

A loud knock on the main door barged in on the conversation right then.

Terence sighed and pushed his chair back, saying, "Hold that thought." He stood up once more and headed into the next room, and after a short pause, Jiminy followed.

To Terence's genuine surprise, Rhiella was at the door when he dragged it aside. She was bundled up in her old blue cloak, and she swept into the house without waiting for his invitation. With some effort, Terence closed the door, though a few stray leaves found their way through before he got the thing shut.

"Rhiella, what are you—" The words were hardly out of his mouth when she flung herself into his arms; she would have knocked him backward if he hadn't braced himself. To further add to his astonishment, she was crying. He stood stock-still for a few seconds before letting himself sink into the embrace. Rhiella's hood had slipped, and her luxuriant hair spilled freely down the length of her back. While she did not cry hysterically, Terence could hear her sniffling a great deal, and there was no mistaking the warm dampness on his front.

"Rhiella." He had to say her name at least five times before he got her attention. When she was finally facing him properly, he touched her moist cheek and asked softly, "Darling, whatever on earth is the matter?"

"Oh, Terence," she blurted tearfully, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"Sorry?" He repeated the word like it was foreign. "What for? You haven't done anything."

Pushing just a little further back, but keeping as tight a hold on him as ever, she said without delay, "I'm sorry about yesterday. I'm sorry for what I said, for making it sound like you had to choose between me and Pinocchio."

Terence's postured stiffened somewhat, but he said nothing.

Rhiella shook her head as she continued, "I couldn't stop thinking about it all day. I couldn't get any sleep that night, and this morning, I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to see you, to talk to you…to apologize. I'm sorry, Terence. Please forgive me."

At this sincere plea, a flood of warmth rushed through Terence, and he smiled for the first time that day as he answered, "Of course, I forgive you, darling. You know it takes so much more than that to alienate me from you." His face and tone became serious again. "But really, I knew from the first you would never truly try to come between Pinocchio and me. I know, even now, that you're so much better than that. A thousand times better."

"Yes," said Rhiella softly, lowering her gaze. "I'm just sorry I gave the impression that I was giving up on Pinocchio, that I didn't care about him. I _do _care, because _you _care." She looked up again and asked softly, "Do you understand?"

"Perfectly." Terence smoothed away a stray tendril of her hair and gently kissed her forehead.

"So you're not angry with me?"

"I was never angry with you, sweetheart. Worried, yes; discouraged, by all means—but never angry."

Indescribable relief flooded Rhiella's face, and her tears now began to fall for a different reason. Terence could feel that familiar spring in his own eyes as he gathered her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck so tightly she nearly choked him, while he immersed his face in her hair and took in her precious scent.

Unbeknownst to them, Pinocchio was just coming in from his room. He was every bit as bedraggled as Terence had been that morning, his clothes every bit as rumpled; one sleeve of his vest drooped off his shoulder, while his cap rested askance on his head. The boy had been all set to apologize to Terence for his previous behavior, and he stopped short at the sight of his guardian and his guardian's girlfriend hugging like crazy, acting like they hadn't seen each other in forever. "I really do love you, Terence," he could barely hear Rhiella say. "I never want to lose you again, least of all over something like this."

"You'll never have to fear such, my beloved," Terence's almost indiscernible voice replied. "Now that I've got you, nothing and nobody is going to keep me away."

"You're the only one in this whole, wide world for me," she sobbed.

"And there is no one I would rather spend the rest of my life with—and so far beyond that—than you."

Pinocchio felt these words as he would a hammer between the eyes. It was as if his heart were a fragile vase, just knocked from its perch onto the hard floor below. Tears welled up afresh, blurring his surroundings. A fist-sized lump blocked his throat. Unwilling to let Terence and Rhiella know of his being there, unable to stay there, the boy turned and fled like an animal pursued in a hunt. Neither Terence nor Rhiella noticed—nor did Jiminy, for that matter.

In fact, of the entire household, only Duke spotted Pinocchio as the boy raced for the back door. When Pinocchio made it through that door, into the gray and blustery open, Duke knew something must be wrong, and the collie promptly bolted after him.


	24. Chapter 24: The River

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_Guess what, folks? You don't have to wait so long for the next update, because here it is now! _

_This chapter now marks OtWooA as my longest story, or at any rate, the one with the greatest number of chapters.  
_

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**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved.**_

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**Chapter 24: The River  
**

No doubt Pinocchio knew better than to run around pell-mell on a cold, windy day, least of all by himself. But the boy was so stunned and heartbroken over what he had just heard at the house that he simply had to get away from everyone and everything. So he ran, as fast as his little legs could carry him, not knowing where he was headed and not caring. Not too far behind, Duke was racing after him—and a very good thing the dog did just so, especially considering what would have happened otherwise.

For those of you who have been paying attention, you'll recall the local warning about moving water on a day like this, and a river so happened to run fairly close to Terence and Pinocchio's home, just at the beginnings of a broad forest. While not as wide or as deep as most rivers in that area, it was wide, deep, _and_ fast enough to be dangerous, even in ideal weather. It was to the edge of this particular river that Pinocchio strayed in his disorderly run, and the ground was slick with mud.

You can more than likely guess what happened next, but I'll tell it all the same.

While Pinocchio had enough brains to not go _all _the way to the edge, there was one section where, unfortunately, the ground disappeared in a sheer drop, and there was no way for Pinocchio to see that drop until it was too late. Even then, the boy might have been all right if there wasn't so much mud, or if he at least had something to grab onto.

As a result, he slipped and skidded all the way into the icy water.

For a long, terrifying moment, it was impossible to tell which way was up. Pinocchio floundered about like a helpless fish; he tried to scream for help, but only a burst of bubbles came out of his mouth. Odd colors flashed before his eyes, and despite the constant flailing of his arms and legs, the current pushed him along wherever it wanted. When at last his head did breach the surface, he drew in a desperate gasp and then cried out at the top of his voice, "HELP! HELP ME!"

That was right about the time Duke made it to the river. Seeing his young master and friend in this predicament, the dog gave out a series of urgent barks before picking his way down the muddy slope.

As Pinocchio fought to keep his head above water, he recalled a past near-drowning experience. He had taken a tumble into the ocean, but Terence had been there to save him, and the young man wasn't here now. Likely enough, he had no idea Pinocchio was here to start with.

The current sucked Pinocchio underwater again, and it was a long time before he surfaced once more. Again he sent up a frantic cry, but there was no one around, no one to hear him. He continued to ride the flow, in spite of his best efforts to swim. The water was as cold as it was swift, and it wasn't long at all before Pinocchio felt his muscles begin to seriously ache and cramp up. Still, he gave it everything he got.

Just when the poor kid was going under for the third time, he felt something catch hold of his collar and pull him up. Craning his neck, he could only catch the barest glimpse of Duke, who was now in the water with him and holding the boy's collar firmly between his teeth.

"_Duke!_" Pinocchio sputtered.

Using all his strength, Duke managed to tow Pinocchio to a somewhat slower, shallower part of the river, near a cluster of rocks and overhanging branches. While the dog couldn't very well climb out from here, at least he was able to keep Pinocchio's head above the frothing surface while saving them both from being totally swept away.

Now all that was left to do was wait and hope that somebody would find them—and quickly.

Sobbing, coughing, shaking all over with stark terror and piercing cold, Pinocchio wailed to high heaven, "TERENCE! _TERENCE!_"


	25. Chapter 25: The Rescue

**ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL**

_I was as eager to write this next chapter as you were to read it. Fortunately, I didn't have too much trouble writing it down. In my original draft, I was going to have Terence and Duke rescue Pinocchio in the middle of a blinding snowstorm, but somehow this river scenario works a lot better. Especially since Rhiella plays a much bigger part in the action.  
_

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**Characters (with exceptions) © Disney**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

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**Chapter 25: The Rescue  
**

"Terence?" said Jiminy, after watching the couple embrace and exchange endearments for some time. When neither Terence nor Rhiella made any acknowledgment, the cricket put two fingers in his mouth and let out a clear, sharp whistle, making them both jump and turn to face him.

"Ouch!" Rhiella said, rubbing one of her ears. "I never knew a cricket could whistle like that."

"What was _that_ for, Jiminy?" Terence protested.

"Sorry," said Jiminy, "but I had to get your attention somehow." Leaping onto a nearby shelf, so that he and Terence were a little more at eye level, he went on, "Remember what I said earlier about Pinocchio, Terence?"

All at once, Terence did remember. "Yes," he said slowly. "And?"

Making a slight gesture toward the two youths, Jiminy said, "Well…_this_ is what I meant to talk to you about."

Terence knitted his silvery brows. "What?"

"What's going on?" Rhiella asked. "What's this about Pinocchio?"

Jiminy closed his eyes for a moment and took a few breaths before he elaborated. "Terence…there's really no way to go around this, or sugar-coat this, so I'll give it to you straight. Don't take this the wrong way, but I have good reason to assume that your relationship with Miss Rhiella is the reason for Pinocchio's…er…problem."

"_What?_" Now Terence released his hold on Rhiella altogether, as did she with him, and stared at the cricket in utter disbelief.

"He's jealous, Terence." With a sidelong glance at Rhiella, Jiminy emphasized, "Jealous of _her_."

"Me?" Rhiella's eyes widened. She took a step backward. "Jealous of…_me?_"

Jiminy nodded solemnly. "Mm-hmm."

"I don't believe it!" Terence said incredulously. "That's—that's ridiculous!"

"Ridiculous as it may sound," Jiminy said, "I'm afraid it's the gospel truth. Pinocchio told me so himself at yesterday's outing. That would explain why he flared up the way he did."

"Oh," was all Rhiella could find to say as she put a hand to her mouth, the light of comprehension now dawning in her eyes.

Terence was dumbfounded, to say the least. For a long time, the young man struggled for words before blurting out, "I—I don't understand. Why didn't he tell me this before?"

Jiminy just looked at Terence, and Terence knew the answer straight off.

Now the youth felt the tendrils of shame and guilt begin to tangle with his shock and incredulity. Like Rhiella, he backed a little way, only he put his hand to his forehead. "Oh, no," he said, partly in a whisper, partly in a moan. "Oh, _no_…what have I done? Oh, Pinocchio, my poor, sweet Pinocchio." Looking toward the hall leading to Pinocchio's room, he went on, "I've got to talk to him right now, to clear up this mess, to make the biggest apology I've ever owed him."

"I'll go with you," said Rhiella softly. "Perhaps it's time, past time, that I had a little talk with him, too."

"And I'll go with you both," said Jiminy, making a spring onto Terence's shoulder, "for moral support, if nothing else."

As they made the route to Pinocchio's room, Terence tried to play out in his mind what he would tell the boy, though he really didn't know where to start. The only two things he knew he would say were an avowal of his love for Pinocchio and a plea for Pinocchio's forgiveness. He could only hope and pray that Pinocchio _would_ forgive him.

But when they reached the bedroom, they found the door already ajar. When Rhiella nudged the door further aside, none of them saw any trace of Pinocchio. The coverlet on the bed was slightly wrinkled, and Terry lay in an unusual heap at the other end. The wind was blowing through the open window, but Terence knew there was no way Pinocchio could have made it all the way up there by himself—not that he ever attempted an actual escape through that window.

"Pinocchio!" Terence cried, looking frantically about the room.

"Pinocchio!" Rhiella echoed.

"Where are you, Pinoke?" Jiminy chimed in.

No answer.

No sign of the boy whatsoever.

Turning the other way, Terence sprinted down the hall and began to search the entire house, with Rhiella and Jiminy searching as well. Working separately but jointly, the three explored every room, looked in every imaginable hiding place.

"Pinocchio!" Rhiella called. "Pinocchio, where are you?"

"Pinocchio, answer me!" Terence wailed.

Jiminy whistled like a songbird, but to no avail.

At one point, Terence came across Figaro, who meowed and pawed nonstop at his leg. "Not now, Figaro," Terence said, until the cat said something that made the man pause and look down. "What was that?" At Figaro's incessant mewing, Terence's eyes widened. "Duke's gone, too? The back door?"

Sure enough, he found the back door swaying back and forth in the wind. Realizing Pinocchio must be out there as well, Terence hollered for Rhiella, told Jiminy and Figaro to stay in the house, and then broke into a full run, with Rhiella barely keeping up.

The wind seemed to come in all directions, running like icy whips through Terence and Rhiella's hair and clothes. As they ran, they passed by Arietta and Armando, who were resolutely pushing their way to Terence's house. When Armando and Arietta learned what their friends were doing out here, they asked no questions, but simply followed.

Perhaps it was divine intervention, but Terence felt a strange prompting to head for the river. When he made it, it was another minute or two before he spotted Pinocchio _and_ Duke in the rush.

"PINOCCHIO!" His voice was loud and vehement enough to rise above the howl of the wind and the roar of the water.

"_Terence!_" Pinocchio barely had the breath to cry back.

Even from a distance, Terence could see how cold, exhausted, and frightened the kid was, and he sensed Duke wouldn't last much longer, either. "_Hold on!_" he hollered desperately to them both.

By then, the others had caught up with Terence. At the sight of Pinocchio, Rhiella gasped, and Armando exclaimed, "Oh, my gosh!"

"We've got to help them!" said Arietta, which was probably the most unnecessary thing she would ever say.

Terence was the first to make his way down the bank, and one by one, Armando and the girls followed. While this bank was not quite as steep as the one where Pinocchio had tumbled, they still had to take special care. Fortunately, Pinocchio and Duke were on their side of the river. Unfortunately, the boy and the dog were not exactly within arm's reach. The adults were obliged to form a human chain, with Armando at one end and Rhiella at the other, using the thick branches for support.

With Terence holding onto her, Rhiella dared to make the venture into the rushing water. The sheer coldness made her catch her breath. While she could feel the graveled bottom, she feared to make a misstep any time. Bracing herself, she waded out as far as possible and stretched her arm as far as it would go.

"Pinocchio," she shouted at the top of her voice, "take my hand!"

Pinocchio didn't need telling twice. Like her, he reached out as far as he could; it was almost a miracle his arm didn't burst from its socket.

Their fingers just barely touched.

"Duke," Terence hollered, "bring Pinocchio in!"

Though Duke's energy and concentration were fading fast, he obeyed. He managed to drag Pinocchio close enough for Rhiella to seize hold of the boy's wrist. Pinocchio grabbed her sleeve in turn, and she pulled him against her.

As Pinocchio clung to her neck for dear life, she held onto Duke's ruff; working together, Terence, Arietta, and Armando hauled them ashore.

Once everyone was out of harm's way, they collapsed into a heap. Duke was too exhausted to even bother shaking the water off. Pinocchio's whole body shook with cold and sobs, and Terence was shaking every bit as badly as he gathered the boy into his arms and held him like he had no intention of letting go. Too overcome by what had happened—what had almost happened—to speak, Terence just hugged Pinocchio until it hurt. Rhiella joined them, putting her arms around both boys. She, too, was at a loss for words; she could only convey her emotions through her body language.

Armando, the driest member of the group, pulled off his own cloak and helped to bundle Pinocchio up in it. "Come on," Armando said, "let's get out of here before we all catch our death." The wind had quieted down somewhat by then, but it was still as nippy as ever, and the wetness from the river made for a terrible combination.

Rhiella offered to carry Pinocchio to the house, and Pinocchio made no objection.

Duke proved too weak to stand, least of all walk, so Terence picked him up, big as he was. As the young man gathered the dog close, he felt a wash of love for the gallant animal, and thanked the good Lord that they'd found him to start with.


End file.
